Where did I come from? What made me who I am? Was it some genetic code or was there some divine plan hatched at the mention of me, somewhere is God’s vast expanse of a mind. Was it my parents’ constant, never wavering flow of love and support? Was it the years of rejection and betrayal that I suffered at the hands of mean middle school and high school kids? Was it the music, the solace I found in the arts, the traveling? Was it all of the above?

A friend wrote on my facebook wall the other day, “You're living in Nigeria now? Man it's like you've lived 5 lives, and I'm still working on my first”. What an amazing and wonderful thing to say to me, really. How did I come to be here at all? When I was born did my parents have any idea of who I would someday be, of the hardships I would endure, or the triumphs I would have? Could they possibly imagine who I would be?

I remember a tearful conversation with my mom back in December. We were in the car, and began talking about those awful moments in my life, what seemed like never ceasing darkness. She explained how awful they were for me, but also her. It broke her heart everyday to see me hurt and in pain. I had never begun to think about how my pain could be somebody else’s.

It seems so sad now, that I didn’t know how loved I was and how that thought seemed so silly. “I am not anything special; anyone who thinks that really just is ignorant.” Marianne Williamson has her quote on the top of this page, and it is true. Who am I not to be all of these amazing things?

As I am sitting on my bed writing this I am thinking specifically about two amazing women, bright souls who I don’t think can comprehend their beauty. The first, how can she exude such brilliance, such confidence and beauty but not truly believe it? How can she be surrounded by so many people who love her, and tell her constantly, and think it cannot possibly be true? I can’t comprehend her not knowing what a light she is to others, and what amazing work she does for the world.

The second woman is continents away, yet I think about her all the time, multiple times everyday. She has perhaps struggled more in her life than anyone I know, felt more pain than I can imagine (and I have seen some pain). She has fought and survived. I mean she has really thrived! She everyday keeps working to become in her mind what everyone around her knows she already is. She finally has become aware of her wings, and oh how beautiful they are!

I am getting so emotional right now, thinking about these women, full of sadness that their self esteem would ever be low, not knowing how truly captivating they are; but I am so proud of them, who they are becoming.

I know this all seems so esoteric and far away. Why I am even thinking about this, I am in Nigeria! But really, what a better place to soul search? I finished a book by Elizabeth Gilbert called “Eat, Pray, Love”, about a woman’s search for herself through traveling. It definitely struck chords within me; there were so many parallels between us. I suppose most people could read that book and find themselves within the pages, but I really felt like I was reading about some of my own struggles.

And now I am in Nigeria. Kerry is sitting across from me, a beacon of light so bright I feel like I cannot possibly begin to describe her. And I watch Grace, from afar, who everyday lives up to her name. Her growing talents and compassion impress me always. Thank you, ladies, for your light inspires me.

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate