Now You See Me…
I was talking with my counselor the other day about how my writing is coming along (it wasn’t). As we tossed around ideas, she asked me about doing a video. I reared my head back, made a horrified face (I know because we were on a video chat and I could see myself) and immediately started shaking my head. It was a pretty big reaction to what was obviously a completely reasonable suggestion. Videos are the thing! Why wouldn’t I want to do one, especially if it helps my blog? Well, I didn’t.
When she asked me why, I giggled nervously, then felt like I was going to barf, which made me mad. One of the bastards that sits on my judgment committee in my head started yammering away about how weak and pathetic I am. The other one told me all the reasons I should be scared.
Imma list those reasons RIGHT HERE:
People will have an opinion (duh).
People might not agree with me (fine) and some might make mean comments (gut wrenching terror).
I’m actually a really bad writer and should have been a dentist or a truck driver or something (a literal crock of sh*t).
But these reasons are just a cover for the real reason I’m scared:
People will see me (insert horrified gasp).
I think people might be surprised about that. I mean, I’m a verbal, dramatic, extroverted woman with a deep need to socialize. Why in the hell would I be afraid of being seen? Because I am not enough. The meanest voice of that committee is always the loudest. I am not pretty enough, smart enough, loud enough, soft enough, funny enough, serious enough, spiritual enough, honest enough, or appropriate enough. I’m just not enough in general and therefore I definitely should not be writing and putting things out there where people will judge me. Maybe if I just changed who I am……HA! Tried that. It has never worked.
How have I survived this long with this crippling fear? Easy. The Divine gave me the gift of gab. I will talk to pretty much anyone and I don’t even have to know them. I can almost always find some way to relate to people. I know I am good at drawing people in, making them feel included, and maybe even making them laugh. Sometimes I can even be charming! I am a people person, gaining sustenance from social interactions, drawing energy from the presence of other humans. I hate talking on the phone (except for with a precious few people and only because I have no other choice) and much prefer face to face conversation. Why? (insert deep breath)…. because I have the illusion of control.
You see, there is a part of my brain that thinks when I am having an interaction, whether with one person or a large crowd, I can control how those people perceive me. I am thoroughly convinced that I can persuade people to notice only certain parts of me, parts I like and am comfortable with. I am also usually very confident that I can dissuade you from noticing parts of me that I would prefer remain hidden. I am very good with the smoke and mirrors. This doesn’t make me a liar; it just means I am practicing the old habit of protecting myself.
Being seen in my entirety scares the shit out of me. And that is why I don’t want to do a video. Because if you hate it, I can’t adjust my words, behavior, language, tone, volume or delivery to try and make you like it (me)!
That is fear talking. The fear says that if I let people see what is really inside me, they won’t like me or love me anymore. And when people don’t love you, they go away. My deepest fear is that I will be left all alone with myself and I promise you, I am my own worst company. This line of thinking reinforces my need for control.
What’s funny is that when I’m honest with myself, I’m know lots of people have seen parts of me that I don’t like. The kids have certainly seen me lose my shit and throw things, Brent has seen me pout and be an a$$hole, my best friends know I can be petty and judgmental (especially of myself). I realized that I delude myself by thinking that I have kept the core of myself entirely hidden and the more I become convinced that I have not done such an excellent job of distracting the people around me.
Self-perception is its own trick. It’s like one part of my brain tries to convince another part of my brain that all the antics and redirects and verbal acrobatics are wildly successful, but it forgets to take in to account that everyone is different. Some people are happy to take you at face value while others seem to be able to look right past your bullshit and see exactly what’s underneath. In fact, I have been surprised many times by someone I don’t know well making an absolutely accurate observation about me after just one encounter. Oh, now what the hell? I’ve been smoke-and-mirroring myself all this time?
Disappointingly, I have no way of calculating how much of any part of me any other human has ever seen. I have no way of measuring my success at the bob-n-weave, no way to tell if my efforts to hide the ugly parts of me were fruitful. And in that light, it seems pointless! It’s like trying to count how many chips your teenager eats. Good luck!
I have worked my way through this for the millionth time. It doesn’t matter what you say or who you are, not everyone is going to like you! It’s conclusive! It’s basically emotional science! Ah! Relief! I win!
Right?
If it were only that easy to change my thinking! If only I had an actual formula to bottle up and peddle on a shopping channel, I would be rich and a hero! Everyone would buy it and thank me profusely and send me large amounts of SweetTarts and cotton candy! But it’s never that easy. Not for me, at least. See, the thinking is what started the whole problem in the first place. How exactly do you untrain your brain? Especially after 40 some years?
And there it is, the million-dollar question. How do you learn to think differently? How do you change your own mind? There’s a saying that I love and hate. I heard it many years ago and it makes sense and it makes me mad:
“You can’t think your way to better living, you have to live your way to better thinking.”
Well shit. Now that means I have to actually DO something to change my thinking! But that’s uncomfortable! And scary! And I DON’T WANT TO. I’m like the cat hanging from the cliff. I’m holding on for dear life and I’m exhausted. I have tried to look below and see how far I would have to fall, but there is only darkness. I can only hang on for so long before it’s too much. I have to let go. And always, always, when I let go, the ground is right there. Even if I fall down, I get right back up and I realize that I have been holding on for no reason! Sadly, I have spent a LOT of time on that cliff, claws dug in trying frantically to protect myself from falling, afraid to let go of my old beliefs, too tired to hang on to what makes me comfortable. The fall is impending. And when I surrender and let go, I learn. Every single time. I learn that the Divine has it all under control. That’s right. I never had control in the first place. My brain lied.
Falling is scary, but once I’m down, I stop fighting and it is much easier to move forward because I have gotten out of my own way. Now I can do what I am supposed to do. I have to write, and I have to post, and I have to have faith that it will all play out the way it is supposed to. I have to get past being scared of negative feedback. I have to spend time checking my motives and trying to be as genuine as possible. I have to practice showing myself. Which means I will have to effing fail and I HATE that! But I have to. The Universe is insisting.
E.E. Cummings said, “It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.” That’s a hard truth for me. It’s a promise that the process of maturing will be painful and scary, but I have been through plenty of painful and scary things in my life. I raised teenagers for Pete’s sake! I have survived loss and pain and fear and abandonment. I have struggled through every single stage of growth I’ve ever had (slow learner, right here) but I am stubborn and determined and I will walk through this like I have walked through everything else. I’ve been growing up for a long time. I’m not going to stop now.