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murielleLJ SURVIVOR 2020—Challenge 4--A Bridge You Must Cross
Remember when the term “self-actualization” was on everyone’s lips? Well, I’m still in that process, but I am getting better. And I remember something that happened about twenty years ago, a realization that affected a huge personal-growth spurt in me.
The two things I heard most often growing up were, you’re too sensitive (or you’re overly sensitive) and you just need more self-confidence.
As I got older I began to notice a pattern to the first one. The people who were saying that to me were generally responding to my reaction to something that hurt me, either said or done by them or someone else. I know that I am A Highly Sensitive Person ™ but that’s just not the same thing. They didn’t care about my reactions to light or color or sound; but my responses to being ill-treated. So, over time I learned whom I could trust with my feelings and who I needed be cautious around or even avoid. The second statement had a lot of truth in it. Maybe a self-fulfilling prophecy.
But, there are some factors to be considered.
According to my mother, both she and my father were not confident people. And they were not comfortable around confident people, as they equated confidence with arrogance. They most definitely did not want to raise a “confident” child. My mother rewarded me for being shy, never pushing myself forward or calling attention to myself and she actively chastened me for exhibiting any of the traits that she associated with her interpretation of confidence.
There were strict rules. One, I was not allowed to ask for anything. If I wanted something I had to wait until it was offered, which would have been fine if she’d told people that, but she didn’t. At least one of her friends refused to offer me anything until I asked for it. I can laugh about this now, but at the time it was painful. There I would be, sitting in front of a plate full of yummy goodness and I knew if I asked for one my mother would “not be pleased” but if I didn’t ask I wouldn’t get one. It was torture. Also, I was not allowed to speak unless I was spoken to, or some non-verbal permission was given to speak. To this day, I have to force myself to ask for what I want, and to speak first. That was difficult to overcome, even in college, where I felt so much more freedom. My first year acting instructor absolutely hated the way I would stand and wait until everyone else had spoken to him after class, and even then, not speak until he asked me what I wanted or looked at me.
The confidence thing was also attacked in other ways. It’s hard to be confident when one is continually criticized. And I was. Yes, there was praise for the rare occasions when I got something right, but most of the time I just got the list of things I’d done wrong and how mortifying my atrocious behavior was to the person telling me about all my faux pas. I look back and marvel at how these same people would tell me I needed more self-confidence when they seemed determined to destroy what little I had and none of them ever had any suggestions about how I could “get” more self-confidence. It took me years to really start to unravel all of this. Years? Decades
.
I don’t recall the catalyst for the realization, but I can tell you, it was a revelation.
One day, for some reason, I was compelled to consider the confident people in my life and I noticed some things they did. Things I had never done or even felt the need to do. And all of a sudden I realized that I had more actual confidence than they did. It rocked my world.
What things?
They lied. They lied to close arguments they were losing, to make themselves appear smarter, or more important. I never felt the need to lie to make myself look more important, or right, or smart, because I didn’t need to feel those things. Being important wasn’t important to me. Still isn’t. Being right, well, we’re all right sometimes and wrong sometimes, besides I’m with Oprah, I think it’s more important to do right than to be seen to be right. And as for being perceived to be smart? I’d rather have fun. No, seriously. I love talking about ideas and learning and “important” stuff, but I also love just fooling around, laughing, and having a good time. The two, to me, are not mutually exclusive; I can even do them at the same time.
They often put people down, just to feel they were better than them. I never felt that need. I never felt the need to put anyone down, period. I don’t like hurting people. I’ve been hurt a lot in my life and I simply don’t get how making anyone feel small or stupid, or bad about who they are can possibly make anyone feel better about themselves. Besides, I don’t need to feel better than anyone else. Look, there are occasions when I think my ducks are in a straighter line than someone else’s, but I don’t need to think or feel that way. I don’t feel “less than” if I don’t feel “better than.”
Well, these confident people in my life did these things routinely. And realizing that opened my eyes to the fact that they just weren’t that confident. Why would a truly confident person need to do these things? It made no sense to me. And as I pondered it occurred to me that I had more real confidence than they. And that blew me away.
It changed me. It changed the way I saw those people, of course, but it also changed the way I saw myself and how I behaved. This sudden realization that I did have confidence, in fact, more than some of the people around me, gave me the confidence to just be myself and to be okay with whom I was, who I am.
Coming to this understanding of what true confidence is was a bridge I had to cross to discover who I am. It also helped me learn what I want, and who I want to be. I’m still pretty shy on the inside, but I’ve learned that making the effort to make other people feel comfortable is much more important than being comfortable myself. And besides (bonus!) when I make others feel comfortable I do feel more comfortable myself and I forget my shyness. I want to go on being and learning to be better at caring for and caring about other people and their well-being and feelings. I want to be sensitive. Not just about my own feelings, though that really helps me with empathy and compassion, but about others’ feelings. A lot of us are sensitive when it comes to ourselves, but not so much when it comes to others. I want to be the kind of person who strives to understand others and to care about what they think and feel. I don’t, I won’t, always get it right, but I’ll go to my grave, God-willing, still trying.
If I have one regret in all of this, it’s that I didn’t cross that bridge sooner. I was in my mid-forties before I came to understand that I already had all the confidence I needed to get through life, happily and healthfully and helpfully.
(Special thanks to bsgsix and AlyceWilson for their eyes and their brains and their feedback. Thank you!)
Remember when the term “self-actualization” was on everyone’s lips? Well, I’m still in that process, but I am getting better. And I remember something that happened about twenty years ago, a realization that affected a huge personal-growth spurt in me.
The two things I heard most often growing up were, you’re too sensitive (or you’re overly sensitive) and you just need more self-confidence.
As I got older I began to notice a pattern to the first one. The people who were saying that to me were generally responding to my reaction to something that hurt me, either said or done by them or someone else. I know that I am A Highly Sensitive Person ™ but that’s just not the same thing. They didn’t care about my reactions to light or color or sound; but my responses to being ill-treated. So, over time I learned whom I could trust with my feelings and who I needed be cautious around or even avoid. The second statement had a lot of truth in it. Maybe a self-fulfilling prophecy.
But, there are some factors to be considered.
According to my mother, both she and my father were not confident people. And they were not comfortable around confident people, as they equated confidence with arrogance. They most definitely did not want to raise a “confident” child. My mother rewarded me for being shy, never pushing myself forward or calling attention to myself and she actively chastened me for exhibiting any of the traits that she associated with her interpretation of confidence.
There were strict rules. One, I was not allowed to ask for anything. If I wanted something I had to wait until it was offered, which would have been fine if she’d told people that, but she didn’t. At least one of her friends refused to offer me anything until I asked for it. I can laugh about this now, but at the time it was painful. There I would be, sitting in front of a plate full of yummy goodness and I knew if I asked for one my mother would “not be pleased” but if I didn’t ask I wouldn’t get one. It was torture. Also, I was not allowed to speak unless I was spoken to, or some non-verbal permission was given to speak. To this day, I have to force myself to ask for what I want, and to speak first. That was difficult to overcome, even in college, where I felt so much more freedom. My first year acting instructor absolutely hated the way I would stand and wait until everyone else had spoken to him after class, and even then, not speak until he asked me what I wanted or looked at me.
The confidence thing was also attacked in other ways. It’s hard to be confident when one is continually criticized. And I was. Yes, there was praise for the rare occasions when I got something right, but most of the time I just got the list of things I’d done wrong and how mortifying my atrocious behavior was to the person telling me about all my faux pas. I look back and marvel at how these same people would tell me I needed more self-confidence when they seemed determined to destroy what little I had and none of them ever had any suggestions about how I could “get” more self-confidence. It took me years to really start to unravel all of this. Years? Decades
.
I don’t recall the catalyst for the realization, but I can tell you, it was a revelation.
One day, for some reason, I was compelled to consider the confident people in my life and I noticed some things they did. Things I had never done or even felt the need to do. And all of a sudden I realized that I had more actual confidence than they did. It rocked my world.
What things?
They lied. They lied to close arguments they were losing, to make themselves appear smarter, or more important. I never felt the need to lie to make myself look more important, or right, or smart, because I didn’t need to feel those things. Being important wasn’t important to me. Still isn’t. Being right, well, we’re all right sometimes and wrong sometimes, besides I’m with Oprah, I think it’s more important to do right than to be seen to be right. And as for being perceived to be smart? I’d rather have fun. No, seriously. I love talking about ideas and learning and “important” stuff, but I also love just fooling around, laughing, and having a good time. The two, to me, are not mutually exclusive; I can even do them at the same time.
They often put people down, just to feel they were better than them. I never felt that need. I never felt the need to put anyone down, period. I don’t like hurting people. I’ve been hurt a lot in my life and I simply don’t get how making anyone feel small or stupid, or bad about who they are can possibly make anyone feel better about themselves. Besides, I don’t need to feel better than anyone else. Look, there are occasions when I think my ducks are in a straighter line than someone else’s, but I don’t need to think or feel that way. I don’t feel “less than” if I don’t feel “better than.”
Well, these confident people in my life did these things routinely. And realizing that opened my eyes to the fact that they just weren’t that confident. Why would a truly confident person need to do these things? It made no sense to me. And as I pondered it occurred to me that I had more real confidence than they. And that blew me away.
It changed me. It changed the way I saw those people, of course, but it also changed the way I saw myself and how I behaved. This sudden realization that I did have confidence, in fact, more than some of the people around me, gave me the confidence to just be myself and to be okay with whom I was, who I am.
Coming to this understanding of what true confidence is was a bridge I had to cross to discover who I am. It also helped me learn what I want, and who I want to be. I’m still pretty shy on the inside, but I’ve learned that making the effort to make other people feel comfortable is much more important than being comfortable myself. And besides (bonus!) when I make others feel comfortable I do feel more comfortable myself and I forget my shyness. I want to go on being and learning to be better at caring for and caring about other people and their well-being and feelings. I want to be sensitive. Not just about my own feelings, though that really helps me with empathy and compassion, but about others’ feelings. A lot of us are sensitive when it comes to ourselves, but not so much when it comes to others. I want to be the kind of person who strives to understand others and to care about what they think and feel. I don’t, I won’t, always get it right, but I’ll go to my grave, God-willing, still trying.
If I have one regret in all of this, it’s that I didn’t cross that bridge sooner. I was in my mid-forties before I came to understand that I already had all the confidence I needed to get through life, happily and healthfully and helpfully.
(Special thanks to bsgsix and AlyceWilson for their eyes and their brains and their feedback. Thank you!)
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