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My Loss Of Moxie. Don’t Let Yours Go Without A Fight.


I’m on a roll.  Can’t stop.  I am still on this moxie thing (See first post here, Second post here).

I started writing this post yesterday and then I hesitated.  I kept thinking, “who really cares about my story about loss of moxie?” But then I read something in “Believing God” by Beth Moore this morning.  This is what I read. “To live in victory, we must not only know who we are; we must also know who we are not.”

And that led me back to thinking about moxie – facing circumstances with courage.  Bottom line is this – if you want moxie – if you want to face circumstances with courage – you have to know who you are.  If you don’t know who you are you will lose your courage  – you will lose your moxie.  So, today I want to tell you about my loss of moxie in the hopes it helps you in your journey to moxiness.

I had moxie in high school.  I mean I REALLY had it.

I lived about 30 minutes away from Knoxville, TN in a small town called Seymour.  I mean you “See Less” in “See More,” if you take my meaning.  The high school wasn’t that big – maybe 400 people, and it was IN the country.  There wasn’t even a McDonalds anywhere close – and I do mean ANYWHERE close.

The people were nice, but not real fashionable.  The hair was big (it was in the 80s), but the guys had little moustaches over their lip.  Get the visual?

I have some great memories from there, but I was a square peg in a round hole, and if you talk to anyone from my graduating class, I’m sure they would agree with me.  Everyone liked me – I think – at least I didn’t have any enemies.  But I was something else, and I mean that in a shake-your-head unbelievable way.  When everyone else wore jeans, t-shirts, and the occasional shoulder pad, I looked like I was walking out of MTV.   I’m not kidding.  I am putting some pics in this blog to prove it to you.

How my best friend, Mic (Michelle, but I just can’t bring myself to call her that) could be seen with me is beyond me.  And believe me, she did NOT wear what I wore.  Case in point, her favorite outfit was blue jeans and a sweatshirt that said “Preppy Boys.”  I absolutely hated that shirt, but I loved her, so I tolerated it (hee hee).  I am sure she felt the same way about my cheetah pants.

Mic’s Dad referred to my attire as “Shiny.”  Hence, once of the reasons I have SHINE on this website.  I wore gold and silver, sparkles and sequins, leather and suede.  I wore tails and satin, thigh high boots and red and black “Air Jordan High Tops” (if you don’t know what those are I feel SO sorry for you.). I wasn’t a Madonna-slut type, I was more of the Cindy Lauper free-spirit type.  I showed no cleavage (I didn’t have anything to show anyway).  I wore thigh high boots, but my skirts came down to my knees.  I was more “baggy” and nothing close to “sexy.”  I was Nic.

I was who I was and I was liked.  But I’m sure people talked about my clothes.  I mean HOW COULD THEY NOT?  I gave them plenty of material.  But I was oblivious you see, because in my heart of hearts it didn’t matter.  I knew who I was.  I was God’s child, who liked cheetah.  I was doing nothing wrong with my leather thigh highs – in fact you could actually have called me a prude!   Once a guy I really liked kissed me and I told him to LEAVE.  I was TERRIFEID of anything involving boys!

But high tops, tails, shine, and leather was who Nic was.  Period.  If you tried to put me in a polo and jeans I would vomit.

I’m not kidding.

But then I lost it.  My moxie went away.  I blame no one but myself, but let me tell you the story.

I went to college and started dating a guy. He was a “polo” guy.  Classy, cute, and tall.  Why he wanted to date the girl who wore zipper dresses and baggy cheetah pants, I will never know, but he did.  And slowly, little comments like, “Why do you wear that?” or “You would look really good if you wore. . . .” started inundating my world.  Other comments like, “You really laugh loud, what will they think?” and “You need to make  a good impression” followed.  I liked this guy, I mean I REALLY liked this guy, so slowly, over the course of about a year, Nic was no longer Nic.  I became Nicole.

Yeah.  You got it.  Nicole.  My laugh became subdued, my carefree attitude became “concerned about impressions,” and my clothes lost their shine.  Most importantly, I drifted away from God.  And without God, your identity is not carefree, it is based on what others think.

It was tragic.  (See picture!  I am in a Polo!  A-Po-Freakin’-lo!  Remember that vomit! YUCK!)

When I broke up with this guy five years later, my moxie was totally gone.

I tried to “put on my shine” but I was embarrassed.  I tried to “don my cheetah” but what would they think?  My carefree attitude had been stolen.  It was stifled.  It was gone.

When I met my husband six years later, my moxie still wasn’t back.  But after Doug accepted me for me, over the course of the marriage, I grew into Nic again.  Maybe not quite so shiny, but Nic.  I re-found God, and my identity returned.  I was God’s child.  Doug’s wife.  I was a little cheetah and a little “normal.”  Life was good.

Then it happened.  Doug was killed.  The protection and acceptance I had had for 6 years disapeaered in a New York minute.

I drifted into uncertainty.  Now who was I?

My concern about what others thought began to grow.  The monster was back.  My moxie left for the second time.

The first time, someone stole my moxie.  The second time, I let it be stolen.  I knew I was God’s child, but without constant approval from my husband, I doubted myself – and I doubted God.

This year, Daddy God is teaching me a lot, not in a biblical way, but in a personal way.

Daddy made your shine, and He made mine.  You just have to have the moxie to shine it.

Even though your moxie can be stolen, it is you that opens the door to the thief.  If you want to keep your moxie or get your moxie back, here are three things you need to pound into your brain.

1) Do not allow anyone to tell you who you are.  Do not allow circumstances to dictate who you are.  You let God tell you who you are.  Your security is with Him, not with anyone else.

The eternal God is your refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms: and He shall thrust out the enemy from before you; and shall say, “Destroy them.”  Deut.  33:27

2) There is only one person we need to please – God.

“For am I now seeking the favor of men, or of God?  Or am I striving to please men?  If I were still trying to please men I would not be a servant of Christ.”  Galations 1:10

3) There is a reason God made you the way He did.  Know this.

“For this very purpose I raised you up, to demonstrate My power in you, and that My name might be proclaimed throughout the whole earth.” Romans 9:17

For sure, there are things about ourselves we need to rise above.  But your personality, your shine, and your moxie are given to you by God.  If you are doing what He wants you to do, if you are shining the way He made you to shine, that is all you need to know.  You can give a rip, but not give a rip, if you take my meaning.  You can be nice, but be firm.  You can wear a little gold, and not be a pimp.  You can dress in a little cheetah, and not be a slut.

Why?  Because your moxie is your shine.

And Daddy makes moxie.  Jesus was the best moxie man I know.

Bad to the Bone.

B-b-b-b b -b bad.  Da-na-na-na-na  B-b-b-b b -b bad. Da-na-na-na-na. B-b-b-b b -b bad

Bad to the bone.

If you have fallen from moxie, it’s time to shine again.  If you have listened to what other people say you need to be, it is time to stand your ground.  If you are trying to please the world, you are failing to please the One.

Get yourself back, because “yourself” is exactly what Daddy wants you to be.  In Him.  With Him  But you.

SHINE with Moxie.

nic

e-mail me at nicsrevelations.com

 


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This article was written by Nic