One of the greatest challenges I’ve had to face in my life is a common issue with many people: low self-esteem. For years it was an inner turmoil that often exposed itself as nervousness and self-loathing, both mentally and externally. But to quote John Cleese, “I got better.”
Well, for the most part anyway.
Today, though my self-esteem is much higher than it once was, there are aspects of the past that continue to plague me. Certain aspects of my past refuse to be forgotten, constantly finding ways to grab hold of a gap in my inner defenses whenever possible. The most annoying of these break through during simple interactions that many people wouldn’t think twice about. Despite having moved beyond the most debilitating of my inner demons, I so often have a grave feeling of being judged.
Judged by whom? It depends on the situation. If I’m at a wedding reception or club with my wife where people are dancing, I often can’t bring myself to dance. Before I even approach the floor I imagine everyone’s eyes suddenly fixated on me, dancing awkwardly and “looking stupid”. Outside of a crowd, I fear negative judgment from new friends and colleagues, that they won’t like me or enjoy my presence. Even when absolutely nothing negative occurs while together, I get a feeling that the others are simply “tolerating” me.
Why, as a 26-year-old adult, do I let these things bother me so much? For that matter, why do I even let such thoughts enter my mind? A large mixture of events and conversations, each pretty insignificant by itself, piled into a giant heap of insecurity and disgust that just won’t go away completely. Like December snow in Minnesota
Silly, insignificant events…
At a high school football game, I had coins thrown at me as I walked by the opposing team’s bleachers. I restrained my fury and simply flipped off the section of people that had thrown the coins. A few days later, as I walked up to church, I was stopped by someone I considered a friend at that time.
“Why did you raise your middle finger at people at the game?”
“They were throwing stuff at me.”
“That’s no excuse. What kind of Christian are you?”
Judged. Put down for showing the slightest act of defiance to protect my pride. I’m human and humans make mistakes. Humans also get angry when other humans hurt them. Am I not allowed the right to be angry? No. Every time I step out of bounds I’m judged and I forsake who I am. Or I forsake my religion. As a Christian, aren’t I part of the religion, and therefore forsaking myself?
On spring break with a group of friends, we met some girls that we hung out with most of the week. Several of them “paired off” and seemed interested in all the guys but me. When one of them identified me as the “loner”, she helped point out what was wrong with me.
“We all think you’re really really cute, but you don’t talk enough!”
I’m boring. I listen, but by not driving a conversation I’m left behind. Silence is always awkward, and everyone hates awkward silences. So when I don’t talk, I fail. But if I don’t have anything to say, am I intrinsically a failure?
I go to a club with a friend while we’re on summer vacation. A girl grabs me and I try to dance, only to be met with her mocking laughter as she bluntly says…
“That’s not how you dance!”
She moves away to someone else and leaves me alone on the floor. It felt like everyone’s eyes were on me as I walked off the floor and tried to blend into the shadows like an invisible wallflower.
“That’s not how you dance.” I didn’t know how to dance. I don’t know how to dance. No one ever taught me. I’m told that it only matters if you have fun. How is it possible to have fun when you’re laughed at for not being able to do it correctly? Why does everyone look at me if I even approach a dance floor? Why is everyone watching, waiting for me to start moving awkwardly and make a fool of myself?
Little, tiny, insignificant events that should mean nothing; but they do. Though not as much as they once did, they do. So what to do?
I work on it.
I write about what bothers me. I talk to my wife about how I feel without fear of being judged. I cherish my friends, new and old, that like me for me. I replace the old “friends” with new, real friends that give a damn about me and that’s all that matters. I work on my family life, my personal life, my professional, spiritual, psychological, and artistic life. Though the bad is near impossible to let go of, it won’t be around forever.
“I got better.”
…and I’ll get better.
