Does the fact that I am secretly happy about these two things that happened today mean that I am more insecure about my body and my age than I tell myself I am?
1) My child, trying to describe another person said, "She's medium sized, like you," as she patted her belly.
and
2) A patron today asked me if I started working for the library when I was three when I mentioned I've worked there for over 18 years.
I act all "Oh, I'm happy with my body the way it is," and "I'm forty and I've never felt better," but when someone says I'm not fat and not old I'm all weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Why does what other people think of me matter so much?
I want to beg you to leave a comment so I know what you think of me. Yep. Sadly, there was no irony oozing from my fingertips as I typed that last sentence.
God, I love to write. I feel so alive. Like I've got my shit together. Like I actually know what I'm talking about. I'm confident. Like someone running through the woods, oblivious to others watching.
But when I finish, I feel like I've been running track in a stadium packed full of people and suddenly my side hurts and I realize how out of breath I am.
When I finish writing, there's no applause. I'm no actor. There's no grade. I'm no student. There's no income. I'm no professional. So I start second-guessing my writing. Maybe I'm delusional? Maybe it sucks and my friends and my mom and my siblings and my husband are just being supportive like I would be if one of them baked me an angel food cake. I'd take a bite and say, "Mmm. This is so good. Thank you!" Even though I've never understood what that dry tasteless crap has anything to do with angels. I'd flatter them because I love them and it was sweet of them to create something they wanted me to appreciate.
Ugh. I had no idea I was such a fake until I wrote that. No wonder I'm so insecure. It's like those tests they make you take when you apply for crappy minimum wage jobs to make sure you don't fit the profile of someone who participates in employee theft. They ask you questions like, "What would you do if your cash register was over $1.00?" And then they give you the option of answering c) take it, what the hell, everyone else would do the same thing, thinking that if you answer "c" you have a negative image of human beings and therefore must be a thief too. Only my test question would be, "What would you do if a friend had a booger in her nose and her date just rang the door bell?" And my response would be c) instead of telling her or handing her a tissue, I'd say, "Wow, you look so beautiful tonight. Have a great date!"
You know how cheaters cheat? Fake flatterers flatter, making the flatterer aware that such fake flattery could also be aimed at her.
First off, I'm not generally a flatterererer (hehe)so you can take the following as the truth.
ReplyDeleteI agree about you looking waaaay younger than 40. I enjoy your writing. I can identify with it, so on two levels this should be satisfying. 1. You're not alone. 2. Writers are successful when readers identify with their writing, right?
I think you are a confident woman. SO you must have your shit together. At least a little, for me to have believed that all this time.
Even if your writing was bad (which it isn't) isn't it soothing to know you have that list of people who support you regardless? Do you think any less of the people you fakompliment when you fakompliment them? (See now I'm thinking of the same paradox you have.) I don't think less of people when they make mistakes, or aren't as great as they'd like to be, but maybe they think less of me when I'm not so successful? Eek. Not going there...
The only time when I do get irritated is when you crawl in your shell and shy away from spending time with people. I understand. I've been there, but I also want you to know I wouldn't care if you showed up naked with rosacea on your vajayjay. I wouldn't bat an eye. I might look away, but I love you the same, and don't find fault with it.
You are a smart and beautiful woman. A great mom, and awesome wife. But, like me, you don't LISTEN to those words, they are too quickly drowned out by one misinterpretation from another, or by your own self doubt. Stop it!
Wow, you are majorly enabling my addiction to flattery. I feel high again, floating away on a stream of compliments.
ReplyDeleteI'll try to poke my head out of my shell a little more, because you're right. The people I love love me not because I'm perfect but because I'm me. Plus, if I ever did develop rosacea on my vajayjay, I already have a prescription to metronidazole cream for my face, so hey, kill two burns with one cream.
It's hard for me to say "what I think of you", as I only know you through FB. :) And I appreciate the way you can point out your own insecurities~~in a way that shows me you truly are secure! Make sense? I enjoy your writing or I wouldn't take the time to read it. And I also enjoy you sharing your parenting and your interpretation of Kate's point of view. Kind of makes me wish I'd waited until I was older to have my girls rather then 21 & 22. I don't think my age bothered me until this year when I turned 55. Since I am a wife 13 years senior to my husband. All of a sudden, at 55~~it seems like 13 years older is a much bigger difference then what it was 9 years ago. haha Keep up the good work lady!
ReplyDeleteThanks so much, Kelli. I've really enjoyed getting to know you on FB too.
ReplyDeleteSince I'm ten years older than Will, I know what you mean. We're obviously young at heart to attract younger men. :)
Thanks for all your support.