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Hey there,
You’re my longest relationship, and the one that brings me the least amount of joy. You’re the bad habit I can’t shake. My dark clouds on a sunny day. Like an awful song that won’t stop repeating in my mind, you’re always there.
You wipe the smile off my face. During my moments of thinking “I can do this,” you quickly remind me that I can’t. You poison all my relationships with everyone around me, and especially with myself.
You’re my insecurities, and let me be straight, I loathe you.
Your favorite thing to tell me is that I’m not enough. I’ve heard it so often that it feels true as fact. Not a good enough daughter, friend, girlfriend. Not a good enough writer or blogger or nanny. Not thin enough. Not interesting enough. Not smart enough. Not pretty enough. My teeth aren’t straight enough. My skin isn’t smooth enough. My hair isn’t shiny enough.
“Hide it hide it hide it! Hurry, before they see!” You whisper to me daily.
At any social interaction you’re quick to remind me that I’m boring. No one really wants to talk to me. I’m forgettable. I need to prove to whoever it is I’m worthy of interacting with, or even befriending.
I have moments where I momentarily forget about you. I live in the present, and am myself. But once those moments pass, there you are again, sifting through the previous interactions and pointing out to me where I was too loud. Too sarcastic. I talked about myself too much. Asked too many questions. You convince me that they truly didn’t like me, and I had imagined otherwise. I believe you every time.
Living with you is impossible. It’s exhausting always feeling so down about every single part of me. It causes me to be the worst version of myself. Needy. Clingy. Emotional. Sensitive. I lash out over the smallest things. Any sort of criticism paralyses me as I realize whoever it is has figured me out and sees the worst of me.
That is my ultimate fear. All my flaws being exposed on the outside like the ugly wounds they are. Everyone seeing them without giving me the chance to hide them, or explain. That’s why you’re here right? To make sure that doesn’t happen. To protect me, and to protect everyone I know from seeing any and all flaws.
I’ve got some news for you though – you’re not doing me any favors and you’ve got it all wrong. All you do is hold me back from everything I’ve ever wanted in life, in all aspects. You’re making me miss out on my entire life and all the good parts by forcing me to hide.
What if I told you that it’s okay to fail in public? It’s okay to not be perfect. It’s okay for some people to not find me interesting, all that means is that they are not my people. Trust me, these thoughts are as shocking to you as they are to me.
I know it may sound crazy, but I see glimpses now and then of actually liking myself. Of really believing in myself. Of thinking I’m interesting, funny, and dare I even say it, pretty. That maybe I am a good girlfriend, friend, daughter, writer, person. Perhaps, all these broken record thoughts are just that – broken. I hear you slithering in the background, waiting to strike with the latest flaw you’ve found, but I live my life anyways.
On rare occasions, I catch myself thinking the unthinkable. That I am still likable and lovable in spite of my flaws, or maybe even because of them.
You’ve been with me every single step of my blogging journey. Doing your best to convince me that I should stop, that my blog is not worth reading, and nothing I have to say is of value to anyone. But have you stopped to notice that nearly two years later I’m still here? Even with your whispers in my ear, I’m still here.
That’s right, your days of being in charge are numbered.
I know our relationship is far, far from over. For all I know you’ll always be there. But I’m here to tell you that even if you want to stay, and remind me every single day that I’m not enough, soon there will be a new voice challenging you, and telling you that I AM enough.
From the physical to the deep down emotional flaws, they don’t define my worth. I am enough simply because I am. Again, a little louder for the insecurities in the back, I am enough simply because I am.
The older I get the more I realize that this is it. This is all there is. The good, the bad, and whatever in between. This is my life. And I am wasting it away letting you be in charge and make all of my decisions.
Basically, I ain’t got time for you anymore. I have big dreams for myself. I want to be successful in my business. I want to have joyful and fulfilling relationships. I want to love myself, and be happy. You’re getting in the way, and I need to not-so-kindly ask you to step aside.
With all my hate,
Ivy
