Getting over it.


I don’t want to let my insecurities hold me back. It’s hard when there is something staring you in the eyes, telling you that you’re not good enough, not strong enough, not attractive enough. But for everything that tells you that you don’t deserve what you want, there is at least one thing that affirms that you do. There is a smile, a pat on the back, a hug.

When I was growing up, I was extremely insecure about how I looked. This led to doubts about any talent that I’ve ever possessed. I wonder to myself, Am I earning this on my own merit, or is because they feel bad for me? Writing is one thing that I am fairly certain of. (Playing the violin was the other, but I had to give that up in the move to Florida when I was young, along with so many other things I loved about Massachusetts.) I know that I can write well; I know that sometimes people want to read what I write; and I know that I receive constant encouragement and praise for this one thing from people that I barely know.

But if it’s true, if I am a writer and destined to make a career of this, then why do I receive so little praise from the professionals for whom I am interning? I constantly second guess myself. Every day, I look at what I’m writing and wonder if it will be good enough, if it is what they want or if it will be chopped and sliced and copied and pasted until it is what they wanted but I was unable to produce?

My insecurities are what hold me back. I have never felt comfortable in my own skin. I don’t like meeting new people in general, but when I do I paste on the happy face with the knowledge that they are judging me from the moment they lay eyes on me. I wear my mask as well as they wear theirs. It hurts to think that people can be so cruel, but I know from experience that appearance is important.

I just don’t know what to do anymore.

Not to mention the fact that I am completely broke. I have $27 in my checking and $50.01 in my savings (the minimum amount to keep my account open). I have a job that offers me work, but it is not consistent. Unfortunately, I realized only too late how dire my financial situation is and now I am left with a month until I go back to school. No one will hire me for a full-time job for a month. As it is, I applied to more than 30 places when the semester ended and only heard back from one. I’m broke, I’m frustrated, I’m tired, I’m sad and I can’t sleep. Throw me another punch, Monday.

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