I can still picture my tiny hands opening a Matryoshka doll and being fascinated at the smaller doll inside and the smaller doll inside of that as well.
The most amazing part is to realize that each of the true dolls is a piece of art, the object of an artist’s time and effort.
Equally amazing is that, by themselves, each doll is beautiful. However, it is only when they are in a set, when they are placed in relationship with the others, that I can truly appreciate the artistry.
When I think of myself, I think of how the Kim of 2022 is really a compilation of all the younger “dolls” inside of me—the young child, the teenager, the young person, the new mother, and the middle-aged woman. The Kim of 2022 cannot exist without each of those other people within me.
Unlike Matryoshkas, my current outer shell doesn’t look as sweet and innocent as the little baby version of myself. Were others to look carefully, they would notice wrinkles, circles beneath my eyes, my calloused hands, and the cellulite.
LIkewise, if others were to look carefully within, they would notice that my worldview is very different than that of the young girl sitting beside her father on a porch swing, looking out at the Blue Ridge Mountains. No longer am I fully convinced of the truth of cliches, of the platitudes that are meant to comfort, or of simple beliefs like the one that hard work always results in positive results. Today, I am often embarrassed by some of the things I used to say, do, or believe.
The younger and smaller versions of me were largely influenced by her parents, their worldview, the evangelical church, and the context of the 70s and 80s. As with all young Matryoshkas, it was only as I got exposed to the world that I realized not all of those beliefs worked for my reality.
(A personal sidenote: How wonderful it was to see my mother in her 60s and 70s change some of those same views the older she got as well. It takes great courage at that age to break out of the previous Matryoshka version and create a new one!)
Negative experiences shaped me, but likewise, people walking beside me in life changed the shape and the look and the worldview of the future Kim Matryoshka. Their words and influence painted new strokes on the person I am today. Some of my artists included:
a pastor who believed in me when it seemed no one else did.
non-religious co-workers who lifted me up each day when many of my Christian acquaintances at the same time were shooting me down.
strangers like a bank employee on Bosque Blvd. who provided me with the words I needed to get through the day.
a retired Catholic leader who forced me to ask questions about my faith that I would have been too scared to ask before. I could actually question things? What an eye-opener.
the convenience store employees down the road from my skunk house who brightened my mornings.
a Methodist minister whose spirit and words were balm in my broken heart.
my wonderful colleagues who have become my family, the ones I rely on daily.
soul sisters who made me realize I could make friends who loved me because of who I was.
a husband who reminded me I was a butterfly who was just coming out of the chrysalis.
While my current Matryoshka version of Kim may not be as shapely as the younger ones, and the hands typing this are wrinkled and calloused, this Matryoshka Kim is beautiful. Perhaps its beauty is not seen immediately.
However, in relation to all the other versions of me within, when you see what I have seen, when you feel what I have felt, when you have experienced what I have experienced, the result is THIS VERSION of me, and this version is pretty darn awesome, pretty badass, pretty wonderful.
This version of me is working on loving myself more. Who knew that always putting others first (as I was taught) would lead to some very negative results?
This version is also focused on loving others more as well—rather than believing “love the sinner but hate the sin,” I am just going with “love them all.” Who am I to determine sinners? Or rate sins based on my personal views? All those people who are supposed “sinners” are just people hurting and wanting to be seen and heard just like me.
This version of me is hesitant to quote Romans 8:28 or Jeremiah 29:11 as a quick way of telling others to move past pain.
This version of me is just here. Moving through life. Trying to offer encouragement and love.
I am so thankful for the original artists that shaped me, but even more important, I am grateful for the artists that shaped the newer Matryoshka versions of me.
