Day 9 of the 500 words a day/30 day experiment @kale&cigarettes
“Self-doubt is a persuasive mistress; careful not to shag her or you’ll never get your balls back.” - Simon Hunt (Dannika Dark, Twist)
Ugh, the pressure that we sometimes put ourselves under. A well-meaning comment or suggestion can set it all off. You should write a book, I’ve been told by a few people. That could be taken as a generous complement. Yet, sometimes my response is to go to that dark place in my head, you’re not good enough. You can’t do it. What the heck would you write a whole book about? Who would care? How would I get it out there? Don’t you need agents, publishers and a whole crew behind you? I’ll spare you the entire spiral of negative inquisitions.
But, there you have it. We’ve all experience the sense that we’re not enough. We could be something more but we just can’t measure up. We could be better but not quite there yet. We compare and critique and in the process tear ourselves to shreds. We lose trust and belief in ourselves and our abilities. Why is that? Do we go back to our childhood to analyze where that came from? What set off that sense of being less than? Although, we all can relate to this at some time there’s a crippling sense of shame in speaking it aloud. We digress further into our dark cave and push that ugliness away. Or at least I have.
Then there are those breathtaking moments when we fully believe in ourselves. We feel the strength and self-assuredness to grab life by the balls. To do it! Aren’t those amazing adrenaline-producing adventures! And, how do we feel afterwards? In those moments, I feel like Wonder woman, incapable of any self-doubt. I’m fully feeling myself in my flowing scarlet cape, ready to soar through the air, courageous and free. Doubt and insecurities are elusive to me as this woman in power. When faced with fear, I send it flying with a high kick in my stylish high-heeled boots. Fear curls up in a ball and whimpers at my strength.
At that, my maternal instincts kicks in and get down close enough to let it know, it’s okay, I won’t hurt you. I comfort it with it’s head on my lap and stroke it’s hair. “Just don’t fuck with me again! Got it? We’re good here. You and me fear are gonna get along just fine. If I see you coming my way, I’ll give you the nod. You know, the nod, not cracking a smile, to say, Yeah, I see you. And what?”
Keep moving. I’ve got shit to do. I’ll set you straight fear and don’t you forget it!
Why me? Why not me? I have the ability to share my experiences from my own unique perspective. No one else can claim to have had the same. There’s only one of me and rather than letting doubt dampen my spirit, I choose to let it soar. Let is soar and dropkick that motherf***r fear when it shows up and tries to steal my peace.
It’s an exercise in self-reflection to be open to the dark emotions. To look at them without flinching; fear, doubt, worry, pressure, anxiety. Sometimes, it’s like playing the staring game, who’s gonna last the longest? To let the shame go and let it be what it is. A moment just like any other and it passes. Letting the magical breakthroughs possible. Or just feel shitty. But, again it’s temporary and it passes. You best believe it’s not gonna steal my shine. Not in this kick ass outfit. I’ve got gold cuffs on for goodness sakes.
In case I should forget my own strength and power, I have a reminder that my kids gave me years ago.