Rise above the insecurities. This lesson might be my most important; though, I’m not quite sure how to apply it yet. It’s proven to be my MOST difficult.
But as they say… once you recognize the problem, you can work on the solution.
I am an insecure person… and as a 23 years old, I’ve never been more insecure. Ironically, it’s at this time in my life that I crave an ease of confidence in myself–an ease that can take me places to discover new things, about myself and the world around me.
But alas… So, with that being said, it’s never been more important for me to rise above the insecurities. How? That’s the part I don’t know.
It’s been a year and a half since I moved out of my childhood home, to live forty-five minutes away from my parents and brother–three people whose lives I covet more than my own. My dad is the funniest man alive. My mom, the sweetest and most selfless. And my brother? Well, there’s something about him, that I can’t quite put my finger on, that I just adore. I often ask myself, Why did I ever move away? I was so happy around my family. I felt loved. Have I simply humored the ideas of society by taking the next logical step–which, apparently, is moving out of your childhood and into your adulthood within the first few months of graduating from college, an hour away from home, and shit-out-of-love? I guess?
I say “shit-out-of-love” because I’m used to living around people who love me unconditionally. But here, in adulthood, I can’t find that. I don’t feel wholly loved–loved so fully that it surrounds me, like a protective shell. Here, on the island of adulthood (or maybe childhood was the island), on which I’ve been ship-wrecked, stranded, left to my own devices, I can’t help but feel alone, truly left to my own devices. Vulnerable.
People tell me I should be loving my life right now. I should be celebrating my youth and independence. But I can tell you right now, I am not. I am not content. And for that reason, my insecurities are filling the gap my confidence left behind. Don’t get me wrong–I’ve grown in my confidence in other ways. I think I’m great at my job, and I’m pretty good, to a fault, at self-analysis, but when it comes to my self-worth, I’m shot. And all I want to do is be a kid again, when love was never hard to find. When imaginary friends were more loyal than real ones.
(I swear this post ends on a positive note, so keep reading…)
My first instinct is to blame the world and everything/one in it. Don’t we all wanna do that? It’s safer. If we can blame the world, we don’t have to blame ourselves. But as I’ve said before, I am always the problem. No matter what hand we’re dealt, we have control over how we move forward–how we rise above the insecurities.
Let me give you a list of some of my insecurities. Not because I’m a masochist, but because it’s important for us to recognize our shortcomings. That way, we know what areas need the most work.
- My looks. I have good days and bad days.
- My reputation.
- Feeling significant. This is a big one. Most of the time, I wonder if anyone would notice if I simply disappeared. Sad, right?
- My future.
- My own conscience. I don’t trust myself to make my own decisions.
- My words, my motives, and my feelings. I can never tell what’s right and what’s wrong.
- Right and wrong.
- My brain, because anxiety/depression are a bitch, and I don’t think most people understand it.
I could think of more, but there’s no need. I think it’s pretty clear that I’m not all together sure of myself. And I could make a list of ALL the reasons, all the external stimuli, which have led to my insecurities, but it won’t matter. I can’t brood on the past.
So, now we get to the How? How will I overcome the insecurities? This isn’t some easy task that can be righted by morning. This is HERCULEAN. And anyone with horrible insecurities will understand. Insecurities are their own mind-sets, and they are extremely convincing. If I begin to feel like my friends don’t love me, I WILL BELIEVE IT. I’ll begin to ask myself why my friends haven’t been texting me and assume it’s because I’m boring, or unwanted, or expendable. And whether it’s true or not, my brain IMMEDIATELY comes to the most detrimental conclusion. I’ll begin to feel sorry for myself and say, Well, maybe I’m better off alone. And then, slowly but surely, I’ll begin to resent the world for not meeting my expectations. But you know what? I can’t expect anything from the world.
So, to combat these feelings and find peace within myself, I’ve been volunteering at an Animal Shelter. I’ve started teaching tap classes. I’ve tried to blog more about the lessons I’m learning on my journey of self-discovery. I’m trying–TRYING– to forgive myself and my feelings. I’ve been thinking about pursuing my photography. I’ve adopted a cat simply because I wanted one and named him Peter Pan (we’re the best of friends). I’ve been putting more time into making others happy (I would advise you to limit this, though, if you’re not first happy with yourself. This is something I’m beginning to realize…)
There’s a reason imaginary friends are more loyal than real ones.
Because imaginary friends are YOU, which proves that the only person who can love YOU the way you need to be loved is YOU. When it seems your friends don’t love you, it doesn’t mean it’s true. It doesn’t mean they hate you or don’t want you around; it means you need a different kind of love right now. It means YOU need to love YOURSELF. You need a Bing Bong.
At this vulnerable time in my life, I want to be happy. And I can’t rely on others to help me with that. It’s up to me.
Lesson learned: I have to rise above the insecurities…on my own.