Mislabeled

I’ve always loved those 1970’s VW buses. You know, the vans that have curtains in the windows and are covered by every bumper sticker known to man. The free spirits of the world. The eccentric types that say, Hey world, this is who I am, like it or not. I admire their boldness.

I imagine each sticker commemorates a piece of the owners’ history, a place they’ve visited, a group or team they support, some unique expression of themselves. I’m much too OCD to do that myself, but I always thought those who did were cool. That got me thinking…

All of us collect labels throughout our lives. We may not plaster them on our cars or sew them to our clothing, but they are there, slowly accumulating inside all of us.

Years ago, I attended a workshop in Dallas called Pathways. One of our assignments was to make a list of the negative tapes that play in our heads and then pick the one that stood out the most. The leader passed a microphone around the circle and each participant read the message that screamed the loudest. Despite being from different walks of life, an age range that spanned from 18 to 60, men and women, would you believe that every message carried the same meaning?

The exact words varied, but each message declared, “I am defective. There is something wrong with me.”

We begin collecting these messages from birth. They come from everywhere—parents, coaches, friends, teachers, spouses. Some are positive and some are not. Sadly, it’s the negative ones that tend to stick.

Most of us are unaware this dangerous pattern is happening, which enables these faulty beliefs to weasel their way into the fabric of our beings. We absorb the labels as if they are a part of us. We just assume it’s who we are. Who we have always been.

Comments that might be thrown around haphazardly become labels, permanently affixed to our souls. Like graffiti covering a wall, they accrue and eventually conceal our true identity. It’s imperative that we become aware of these voices in our heads, these whispered lies, and confront them with scripture before they have a chance to take up permanent residence inside of us.

I describe this experience in my newly-released memoir, Prayed Upon: Breaking Free from Therapist Abuse. In the midst of an abusive relationship with a respected Christian therapist, I realized that I was living under a set of “rules” that enabled him to victimize me. These labels adhered to my identity during early childhood when I was most susceptible, most malleable. They were masking my true self and dictating my choices. Rule #1 created the most damage:

Everyone else has more value than you, and you should treat them this way.

First, I had to acknowledge the “rules” that were driving my behavior and the labels that told me I didn’t deserve God’s love. I then had to challenge them with God’s word which assured me that  he loved me unconditionally. I pored over scriptures that immersed me in God’s professions of love, inscriptions that covered my soul with fresh truth:

Loved ~ Adopted ~ Cherished ~ Fought For ~ Died For ~ Eternal ~ Sons and Daughters ~ Friends ~ Worthy ~ Blameless ~ Insiders ~ Treasured ~ Redeemed

As these new labels bonded with my identity, I had no use for the old ones, and they began to fall away. Over time, a new set of rules emerged that replaced the defective ones. I saw changes in my marriage, my family, and my friendships. My life was following a new trajectory, and no one would ever treat me like garbage again. Why? Because I no longer believed those lies. I now know who I am. I’m a daughter of the King, an heir, a perfect creation.

With this new awareness, I watch for the old messages and eliminate them before they have a chance to stick.

If I do catch one that doesn’t belong, I simply peel it off and throw it away. Then I cover it with a new one.

Satan is a master at slipping these labels in when we are least aware. But we don’t have to accept them. We replace them.

It’s been eight years since my abuse and since discovering these faulty rules. I now have a brand-new set of labels that I would be proud to plaster all over my 15-year-old green minivan. Stickers that are accurate and life-giving instead of ones that tear me down. Nah, I’m still too OCD. It might ruin the paint.

You can purchase Prayed Upon: Breaking Free from Therapist Abuse at  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09HR9TN3N  The ebook version of Prayed Upon is available this week only!

You may also purchase an autographed copy directly from the author which includes a gift with purchase at https://amynordhues.com/shop/