Insecurities

Long time, no post. I know. Life’s been a little beyond crazy lately. End of school, business has been wonderfully busy and wonderfully hectic with several projects in the works at the property. And it’s warm, so you know I’ve been in my garden and embracing the warmth. Sofia moved a good distance away and I’ve been helping her at the new house and at the campground as they moved their campsite, too.

Busy busy busy, and words have been hard to come by.

Something has been on my mind though, so I’m making time for these words this Sunday morning.

I’ve touched before on what a contradictory person I am, but the other night Sophia and I were having a conversation about it.

“The first time I heard you say anything about being shy and insecure, I was shocked. Who is this person?” She said to me.

At work I am decisive, and confident. I will walk up to a contractor and tell the person what I want done, and how. I have a way of getting my point across that I’m unhappy, but remaining professional. I give just enough fucks to stay employed. That’s what it comes down to. In a group setting, with friends, I’m the same. At a concert, a bar, or in any other setting I laugh and I joke, I give my opinions. . . And to hell with anyone who doesn’t like it. How I dress is for my comfort, my make up and hair is to my liking. I am unconditionally me on a day to day basis.

Let a man hit on me though. Or God forbid, let me be interested in someone.

All of a sudden I become shy, and don’t know how to act or how to respond.

It’s not a side of myself I enjoy, let me say that. I am a writer and being at a loss for words is uncomfortable. Not to mention the fact that deep down I know what I am on the daily, and this confused and uncomfortable person I become is annoying. I can’t stand a person who is an indecisive doormat, and that is precisely who I become when in a situation where the laws of attraction are present.

Even in writing this I’m becoming itchy. I don’t know if I even want to finish it. But this blog has been the source of a lot of healing for me, so finish it I will.

The shy and insecure part of me comes from years of not being good enough. Of being the fat girl, the poor girl who didn’t dress to societies standards. Of only being useful for my intellect and nothing more. It came from my mother and my peers. It came from living in a disfunctional home where every day was uncertain – would it be normal or would it be filled with stress and anguish?

The confident part comes from having made my way from nothing, from proving everyone wrong and being successful. I’m raising two boys who are phenomenal, I’m holding a job and consistently getting recognition for my hard work. I came up from nothing. And have a lot to show for it. Confidence comes from continually being faced with adverse conditions and overcoming them.

I know I’m smart and I know I’m strong – physically and mentally – I know I can make a group laugh from my unabashed honesty and wit, and I’m kind and can solve problems that make many want to give up. I have a way with words and the ability to lift anyone who needs it up. And I don’t give up. It’s not a part of who I am. Failure is not an option for me.

I don’t do well if I do make a mistake, and with any form of rejection. I’m not used to failing and fucking up because it is rare. I have no problem admitting when I do, but it also hits me pretty hard when I have to admit defeat, when I have to admit to a short coming. I make damn sure that these things don’t happen often for that reason.

That all being said, this is a big part of why I remain single. Why I am content with solitude. It’s easier to stay on top of shit if I only have myself to worry about. There is no chance of fucking up if I only worry about myself. Sure, I make mistakes with the kids, all parents do. But they come from me and love me unconditionally. I know that at the end of the day, even if I make a mistake, that they will still love me.

I look back at my life, and at the times that I did venture out of my comfort zone and engage in a relationship or dating, and I see failure. This is the only area of my life that has not consistently been full of good, and improvment. I have failed relationship after failed relationship at my back, and while I can acknowledge that it takes two to make a relationship work, I also see that it takes two to make it fail. And I am the common denominator.

So I steer clear. I don’t put myself out there, and I consistently shut anyone down that expresses an interest of any type. I keep myself busy so it’s not even an option. I friend zone everyone of the opposite sex. I enjoy male company, but only if it stays platonic. Occasionally someone catches my eye, and I ignore it as a general rule. Because to acknowledge it and make my interest known sets me up to fail again.

And I don’t like to fail.

It’s been two years since my last failure, and I’ve grown and improved my life drastically. I suppose I substitute a relationship with being fulfilled in every other aspect. My yoga and gardening, raising my kids and helping brother with stuff, my job, my writing and concerts and friends. . . It’s all good. It’s all full of fun and achievements.

Maybe eventually I will overcome this too, and live the happily ever that I dreamed of as a teenager.

Maybe I’ll die with fantastic memories of friends and good times, with nothing but those memories to ease me into old age. That isn’t such a bad thing.

At this point, I don’t know.

Right now, my comfort zone is what it is – solitude.

And I don’t think it’s changing any time soon.

That’s what’s on my mind this Sunday morning. I know that in order to succeed in this area I have to try. But in order to try I have to overcome this feeling of inadequacy. I have to see myself as worthy of what I want, and I know deep down that I am. I know I’m a wonderful person, and I know that I’m not the poor fat girl anymore. I know there’s more to me than my intelligence. And I know that I’m stronger than my insecurities.

Knowing is half the battle, right?