I apologize ahead of time for people who will be embarrassed by my openness in this blog. Maybe you should stop reading now.
I am not perfect. Neither are you, but this one is about me. I am insecure and crave strokes, love, positive attention, whatever you want to call it. I suppose we all do, but I crave that too much. It is unhealthy. I allow it to hurt me.
I'm hurt when I'm not good enough to get the prize. My paperwork isn't good enough to make it through a peer audit perfectly. People I work with do not want to spend time with me away from work. I'm not chosen for extra assignments because I'm just so ding dang good at everything I do. No one nominates me for employee of the quarter. I know these are silly little things that healthy people don't even notice. But lately they hurt me.
When no one comments on my blogs, I immediately think that they were poorly written or that I didn't have anything important to say. I'm really hurt that friends don't follow this blog. Yes, yes, I know it's ego. I know it's poor self esteem. I know the hole can never be filled sufficiently by the outside.
Regardless, lately I'm feeling less than worthy because everyone in my life whom I love does not love me. I love easily. It's easy for me to find lovable things about people. I'm hurt that I'm not they don't all love me back, though it would be unreasonable to think they would or could.
For all my feminist talk, when I talk to men I often feel like a little girl. I feel less than the highly intelligent woman I really am. When I talk to women, I feel less beautiful and/or accomplished than they. When I picture myself as a cartoon, it's of a very faint, small person, apart from the group, with a bubble above her head that shows she wishing for a gold star sticker. I very often pretend I'm my sister just so I can walk into a meeting. She is graceful and intelligent and the things I'd like to be.
When I am in a session with a client (in case you haven't been following, I'm a psychotherapist - go ahead laugh now) I have no problem relating to her feelings. I have felt them. I understand. And often I can help her, which makes me a good therapist, I think. I have the ability to be empathic with out pitying.
But that doesn't make me a good person. I want to be a better person. I really, really do. I want to stay in the attitude of gratitude every second. I want to forget my HUGE ugly ego and be joyful in my place in the Universe. I want to take anger that is taking up too much of my soul and dump it somewhere where it can do no harm. I want to not hurt and I want to never hurt others. I want to be satisfied with being good enough and not feel like I have to be perfect.
I say these things, but this whole post is about me, me, me. It's all about me, which rather proves my point. This is not easy to write, but I'm taking my own advice and writing it anyway. I think in order to become better, I need to recognize and admit my rather numerous imperfections.