This post is for the woman who walks silently into a crowded room and stands alone hoping that someone will notice her.

This post is for the woman who sits quietly with her lips curved into a polite smile as she listens to small talk, but seldom joins the conversation.

This post is for the woman who walks up to a group of co-workers or moms at a PTO meeting and suddenly feels as though she’s been transported back to high school. Although the other women are courteous and do not ignore her presence or respond with icy stares, she still feels out of place.

This post is for the woman who feels intimidated by her polar opposite…the woman who smiles eagerly, jumps readily into conversations with strangers, makes new friends with ease, and seems capable of swapping recipes with a door knob.

I’m writing this post for you because I understand how you may be feeling in new situations. In fact, the examples above are from a time in my life that existed before moving to seven very different cities in a ten year time span morphed me into that second type of woman I mentioned…the one who strikes up conversations with strangers in elevators.

Last month when I entered a meeting filled with faces unfamiliar to me, I smiled big, initiated friendly handshakes, and shared some stories and ideas.

If you were there, you may not have noticed the tell tale signs hinting that proverbial butterflies danced in my stomach, but rest assured, they were fluttering. Furiously fast. Self doubt is a comonality shared by everyone on this planet…the degrees vary but the verdict is the same.

Sometimes I leave social outings asking myself frantic questions like:

Did I dominate the conversation?

Could anyone really make sense of what I was saying?

Did I come across as petty, or too serious, or rude?

Did anyone else notice my wrinkled pants?

There are also days when I feel as though no one really likes me. Days when insecurities hover like heavy gray storm clouds. Sometimes, the confidence I exude is as phony as the Kate Spade purses sold on Canal Street.

It isn’t that my perky persona is an act, or that I don’t really enjoy engaging in conversations or mingling with friends. All that is true.

But at the same time I need to refill my mind with God’s truth before I can possess the mettle needed to be whom I was created to be.

When we replace our desire to believe in ourselves with the desire to become more like Jesus we take another step toward loving each other (and ourselves) a little more like He does.

by Angela Nazworth

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