You Are Not Plain Yogurt

I’m not sure who needs to hear this. But, as a lifelong, relentless, deeply-resentful people pleaser, there’s one thing I wish someone had told me a long time ago: 

You are NOT plain yogurt. 

I can explain (I think). I spent years reading the room, taking in the social cues, trying to make myself as agreeable and palatable as possible. Essentially, I treated myself like a giant bowl of plain yogurt. So, in this season, I make it my mission to make sure my kids, and anyone else who needs to hear it know that:

You are NOT plain yogurt. 

Plain yogurt is never served as the main course. Instead, it’s typically the culinary sidekick. An ingredient, a condiment, a mere garnish. 

You are NOT plain yogurt. 

Most people only want plain yogurt around when they can add to it, enhance it, or alter it somehow. In fact, plain yogurt’s biggest selling point is its unwavering ability to morph into whatever people demand of it. 

You are NOT plain yogurt. 

Sure, some people enjoy plain yogurt in large quantities—but only if they can sprinkle in a dash of cinnamon, a splash of honey, or some fresh fruit to make it sweeter.

You are NOT plain yogurt. 

Some pour carefully measured amounts of plain yogurt into a bigger recipe, stirring and blending until there’s virtually nothing left of it. Still others can only tolerate plain yogurt in tiny spoonfuls on the side of their plates, and even then, it’s forced to do a poor imitation of what people really want: full fat sour cream.

You are NOT plain yogurt. 

In fact, you’re not yogurt at all. You are fearfully and wonderfully made, designed by your Creator to be unabashedly and unapologetically you — not something designed only for dollop-sized doses.

TODAY’S SOFT NEVER

Today we’re Soft Nevering the belief that we can never  just show up as our authentic selves. It’s easy to treat ourselves like plain yogurt, continually reading the room, and changing our behaviors based on everyone’s expectations, opinions, and preferences. Compromise is healthy. But it’s okay to stop overly accommodating, bending, yielding, and diluting ourselves simply to remain as palatable as possible—even if that means being an acquired taste.