re-examining an old wound
Jan. 17th, 2003 08:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kuangningIt's almost healed over, but still, I get twinges every now and again. Knowing where they come from helps.
I no longer tell myself I've been forgotten.
I don't say "I'm not enough." Instead, I say "I feel like I'm not enough," and that sounds like a small difference but isn't. It is a mood, a feeling, and it will pass -- and it does.
Sometimes I still do feel like I'm a convenience and nothing more. Sometimes I still do get hung up on feeling invisible and unremarkable and lacking in whatever it takes to capture and hold attention and affection. Unlovely and ungentle, ungracious and expendable. I still hear the lectures on family life from my parents. I still get chivvied into makeup and nail polish every now and again, ignoring the fact that it's more likely that I'll feel even more awkward in them than that the extra fuss will make me feel better.
Hrm. Why shouldn't makeup and the like, knowing I look nice, make me feel better, anyway?
- because they're not directly providing what I need or think I need right then. (love/approval/affection, or close enough.)
- because even if they're indirectly providing what I need, I'd resent having to change myself so drastically to get it. (wasn't I worth anything before you covered up the real me with Stuff? Because if not, then I'm really still worthless, it's just that now I'm a carrier for the Stuff, which is what you really like/love/want/approve of.)
- because I feel like the fuss (time/money/attention) is wasted on me, usually.
That's a bigger one that it sounds like. I still feel guilty about doing things for myself, sometimes. The usual reasoning is it's not a necessity. There are fifty other ways you could use that resource. What that boils down to, sometimes, is a nicer way of telling myself I don't deserve this. It's generally a plausible reason in my mind for denying myself something, and sometimes it's an accurate and necessary tool and helps me to keep my own priorities straight. But sometimes I use it to prioritise my own happiness right out of the picture. I know better, in my head. But on a gut level, sometimes I'm still not satisfied unless I'm sacrificing my own wants to someone else's, in the hope that the universe will be "fair" and I will be "repaid" with love and loyalty. And while I do not usually say out loud, see? I gave up ___ for you, and what do I get in return? I sometimes still feel that way. I know I learned that behaviour from my father, whom I love dearly, but I don't want to keep it, thankyouanywayDaddy. The urge to play the martyr is one of my worst qualities, not one of my best.
- if I have to give up something before you like/love/want/approve of me, then it still isn't really me you like/love/want/approve of, it's either the thing I gave up or the fact that I'll give in/submit/fulfill the expectations you have of me. And on some level, I will know that (how could I not?) and I will resent you, and myself for giving in. But mostly with me, because I gave up something that mattered to me to buy something I apparently don't merit just by virtue of being me, even though I should.
- if you accept my sacrifice and don't "value" it, (love/affection/approval again,) then I will be angry with you and with myself for giving in. But mostly with you, because, well, I gave up something that mattered to me because your love/approval/affection mattered more, and you used me. Meaning, you disappointed me by not giving me what I felt was fair return for the coin I used.
Core problem, then, is not being happy/satisfied with who I am. And I can fix that. But not by giving up more of me. I can fix it by being the kind of person I admire most, and building the kind of life I'd like to have. And anything I do in the pursuit of that, so long as it doesn't hurt someone else, even if it benefits no-one except me, is okay and worth it.
I can also fix it by appreciating what I already am, and what I already have. That costs nothing, hurts no-one, and is also worth it. So long as I don't focus so exclusively on that that I forget to let myself change and grow.
This feels like enough for now.
I no longer tell myself I've been forgotten.
I don't say "I'm not enough." Instead, I say "I feel like I'm not enough," and that sounds like a small difference but isn't. It is a mood, a feeling, and it will pass -- and it does.
Sometimes I still do feel like I'm a convenience and nothing more. Sometimes I still do get hung up on feeling invisible and unremarkable and lacking in whatever it takes to capture and hold attention and affection. Unlovely and ungentle, ungracious and expendable. I still hear the lectures on family life from my parents. I still get chivvied into makeup and nail polish every now and again, ignoring the fact that it's more likely that I'll feel even more awkward in them than that the extra fuss will make me feel better.
Hrm. Why shouldn't makeup and the like, knowing I look nice, make me feel better, anyway?
- because they're not directly providing what I need or think I need right then. (love/approval/affection, or close enough.)
- because even if they're indirectly providing what I need, I'd resent having to change myself so drastically to get it. (wasn't I worth anything before you covered up the real me with Stuff? Because if not, then I'm really still worthless, it's just that now I'm a carrier for the Stuff, which is what you really like/love/want/approve of.)
- because I feel like the fuss (time/money/attention) is wasted on me, usually.
That's a bigger one that it sounds like. I still feel guilty about doing things for myself, sometimes. The usual reasoning is it's not a necessity. There are fifty other ways you could use that resource. What that boils down to, sometimes, is a nicer way of telling myself I don't deserve this. It's generally a plausible reason in my mind for denying myself something, and sometimes it's an accurate and necessary tool and helps me to keep my own priorities straight. But sometimes I use it to prioritise my own happiness right out of the picture. I know better, in my head. But on a gut level, sometimes I'm still not satisfied unless I'm sacrificing my own wants to someone else's, in the hope that the universe will be "fair" and I will be "repaid" with love and loyalty. And while I do not usually say out loud, see? I gave up ___ for you, and what do I get in return? I sometimes still feel that way. I know I learned that behaviour from my father, whom I love dearly, but I don't want to keep it, thankyouanywayDaddy. The urge to play the martyr is one of my worst qualities, not one of my best.
- if I have to give up something before you like/love/want/approve of me, then it still isn't really me you like/love/want/approve of, it's either the thing I gave up or the fact that I'll give in/submit/fulfill the expectations you have of me. And on some level, I will know that (how could I not?) and I will resent you, and myself for giving in. But mostly with me, because I gave up something that mattered to me to buy something I apparently don't merit just by virtue of being me, even though I should.
- if you accept my sacrifice and don't "value" it, (love/affection/approval again,) then I will be angry with you and with myself for giving in. But mostly with you, because, well, I gave up something that mattered to me because your love/approval/affection mattered more, and you used me. Meaning, you disappointed me by not giving me what I felt was fair return for the coin I used.
Core problem, then, is not being happy/satisfied with who I am. And I can fix that. But not by giving up more of me. I can fix it by being the kind of person I admire most, and building the kind of life I'd like to have. And anything I do in the pursuit of that, so long as it doesn't hurt someone else, even if it benefits no-one except me, is okay and worth it.
I can also fix it by appreciating what I already am, and what I already have. That costs nothing, hurts no-one, and is also worth it. So long as I don't focus so exclusively on that that I forget to let myself change and grow.
This feels like enough for now.
