I grew up thinking I was ok. Okay in the average sense of the word not the "A-Ok" sense. Pretty good at a whole lot of things but not great at any of them. I'm not sure why I felt so mediocre but somewhere along the line this is the feeling that was instilled in me. I had an older brother who I felt could do no wrong. I was the younger sister that would enter her new class in elementary school and the teacher would say, "so you're Lee Rudy's little sister" and I would have this expectation to live up to and never quite did... I'm sure Lee has his side of the story where his little sister was the one with all the friends (or maybe he didn't care) but this is MY blog so I'll stick to my side. My parents were wonderful - supportive, loving, fun, passionate and encouraging. But they were NOT the parents that bragged about their kids, touted our accomplishments to their friends or acquaintances or raved on and on about us. I often would hear my friend's parents saying how GREAT they were doing at this or that, how many goals they scored, how perfect their boyfriend/girlfriend was, etc. and I would hear my mom exclaiming how great it was for them. I remember asking her why she didn't do that about me and she'd simply say that it made her uncomfortable to boast about me. It made sense at the time (I remember thinking it was obnoxious of her friends to talk so much about their kids without asking much about us) but I wonder now how it affected me in the long run.