My Problem

There is one small problem with this new job that I love, and it is, to put it simply, that it makes me feel monumentally inadequate. All day long, I hold and handle the creative works of other women. I study how they were made and I look for unusual or especially creative elements. And I often come away feeling like an uninspired lump of nothing. I mean, I am technically a Master of Fine Arts--"creative" is practically in my title. And yet, I am not making anything of my own. It makes me feel very insecure about who and what I profess to be.

The truth is (personal confession--indulge me), I spend a lot of my time feeling insecure. I don't like this about myself, but I worry about other people's opinions of me, even people I know love me. I wonder and worry quite a lot if I'm doing things "right." Any discontent I feel about anything--my clothes, my house, my weight, my blog--almost always comes out of the suspicion that someone else does it better. I know that in general, women are prone to the deadly sin of comparison (and therefore never think of ourselves as "enough"), but it's not just a comparison. It's that somehow my choices are inherently flawed because I didn't do things the way other people did--I didn't do it "right."

Sometimes I even worry about who I am: Am I nice enough? Am I too nice? Am I nice for the right reasons? Do I spend enough time with my family? With my friends? Am I being unreasonable? Am I being a pushover? Over and over, my inner dialogue second guesses everything about myself.

The practical part of me just read over that last part and rolled her eyes. Sheesh, just be who you are and stop worrying about it, she said. And I do listen to that voice most of the time. I've worked hard for more than half of my twenty-four years to be more confident and sure of decisions and myself. But there are days (especially lately, triggered by my job) when I lose that sense of who I am. Days when I stop asking what I like and only worry what other people will like. Days when I forget whose opinions actually matter. Days when I'm lost.

I told my sister-in-law the other week that sometimes we need to let ourselves cry. We need to admit to and experience our negative emotions so that we can truly move past them. But now, I'm not sure that's completely true. Yes, we do need to feel what we feel, but there is a point when it just becomes self-indulgent.

So.

I am going to battle my insecurities and reclaim my creative identity.

I have a list of projects I want to do (some of which I've already started), I have a book of writing prompts I'm going to work my way through, and I am going to work on that whole staying-confident-at-all-times thing. If I need to, I am going to make a list of things I like because I like them. (I'm thinking of that scene in Runaway Bride when Julia Roberts tries all the different kinds of eggs...) And I'm going to remind myself daily that the list of people whose opinions I should listen to is much shorter than I think it is.

I realize this was a very self-indulgent post, and I hope you'll forgive me. I also hope you know what I'm talking about--the pull of insecurity and self-doubt and push of confidence and action. If not...well, lucky you. :)

Maybe someday I will learn to speak up for my opinions a little more. Or maybe I will learn not to care what other people think. Or maybe I will finally figure out how to hang on to my identity, regardless of whose beautiful projects I am writing about.