Feeling Invisible and Being Enough

Do you ever have that moment when someone says something and it resonates to your core? It’s almost a palpable punch to the gut, and you feel like you’ve just been taught something about your soul that you should have recognized before but never quite understood until that very moment?

This morning, I was at church (yes, I periodically attend a church even though I’m not religious… I am an enigma; deal with it) and the young man giving the sermon was discussing how he felt growing up. And despite one key difference – that he was teased for being tall, while I was noted for being short – a good part of his story sounded like my own. I felt a strong connection to his story when he talked about being an academic achiever, about how he always made As in school and how this was part of his identity as a youth.

But what hit me was what he said a little later about this drive to achieve. It hit me hard. What he realized about himself, later in life, was that while he was growing up, he didn’t really like himself all that much, and that his pursuit of achievement wasn’t really an effort to achieve success or knowledge. Not down deep. It turns out that he was trying to achieve “enoughness.” He was trying to be “enough” – good enough for someone else to like him, fun enough for others to want to be friends with him, cute enough for girls to notice him… or simply enough for him to like himself.

Trying to achieve enoughness. That’s a pretty powerful concept, isn’t it? This idea that a person might be motivated not purely by an interest in the achievement itself – be it academic or sports-related or familial or health or some other such goal – but by the need to prove to yourself that you are somehow enough. Enough to be liked. Enough to be loved. Enough not to be replaceable.

The statement – “trying to achieve enoughness” – hit me like a telephone pole to the forehead when you’re walking down the street and texting at the same time.

I’d never really put that “trying to achieve enoughness” feeling into words before. It’s something I’ve recognized about myself, somewhere inside, for a long time. When this man said what he said, he could have been talking about me.

Am I still insecure about myself these days? No. I’ve learned to like myself. I’m going to live with myself for the rest of my life, so I might as well be happy with who I am – intellectually, physically and emotionally. And I am. I’m pretty damn fond of me. You should be, too. I’ll introduce you to me sometime so you can see for yourself.

But when I was young, I felt… well, if I’m being completely honest, I felt small. I felt insignificant. It was as if my short stature reflected on the outside how I felt on the inside. And the way I coped with that was to focus my efforts hard on my academics. I was too clumsy to excel in sports and too shy to try to be a class clown or some sort of clique or class leader. But I could learn and test with speed and ease. And I did. And I leaned on that and cherished that and tried to be proud of that… and I always felt good about what I’d done but could not manage to feel good about me. I felt like the effort was enough, but that I wasn’t.

Before my mother calls me out as a liar (hi, Mom), I feel I need to clarify that I also was very headstrong and confident in my beliefs. It's easy to confuse a child who is solidly assured in his or her convictions with one who is confident in himself or herself. But there's a difference. I always have been clear and certain about what I know or what I feel in my heart. However, that confidence didn't extend to my feelings about myself as a person.

Now, because I was shy, my shortness played another role in this saga in that it allowed me to become invisible when I wanted to be. If you’re small in stature and relatively slim in build, it’s amazing how much you can make yourself blend into the crowd… into the walls… into the corner. To become invisible. It was both a blessing and a curse for me when I was young. When I wanted not to be noticed, I would make myself unseen, and I would feel safe. But the flip side of that is that if you can go unnoticed so easily, it’s easy to feel unremarkable. It’s easy to feel not noticeable enough. Not interesting enough. Invisible. Don’t get me wrong; around my good friends, I could laugh and banter and act crazy and feel at ease. I could let loose and have fun. But it was all too easy for me to disappear among the masses.

These days, as I stated, I’m at ease with myself. I’m happy and confident with who I am and with the life I lead, and I don’t need to hide from or apologize to the world. I’m no longer shy or reserved (as far as you know), and I quite enjoy doing activities that require me to be noticed, such as participating in conferences or giving presentations or public speaking. You can’t try to fade into the background or have doubts about your enoughness to do those things effectively! And I don’t want to try to fade into the background any longer. I do what I do because I enjoy it, not because I’m trying to prove something to anyone. Not even to myself.

Still, once in a while, when life or work runs a little off-kilter and things aren’t going as I want or expect, I admit that I feel that old nagging tug on my heart, hear that whisper in my ear that suggests that maybe, just maybe, I’m still not enough. Maybe I should fade quietly into the background while I buckle down and try to work harder or do more or somehow be better…  to get back to achieving enoughness. It’s tempting sometimes, because it feels so secure to have that focus and that invisibility.

The feeling is real, for certain, but fortunately it’s fleeting. No matter how much I can relate to that girl that I used to be, no matter how much I can still feel that pain in my heart and that ache in my belly that she felt all those years ago, I’m no longer the same person. Because I know who I am, and I’m happy with who I am, and I refuse to feel “less than” – for anything or anyone. I’m happy now. I am… enough.

Fathers and their Truths and their Love and their Realities

Recently, I had a discussion with a good friend of mine about some of the recent blog posts written by fathers to their daughters about today’s ridiculous standards of beauty and about the importance of being a strong partner in a relationship, a woman who holds her partner to a high standard of respect and love.  My two favorites are by Dr. Kelly Flanagan:

Words From a Father to His Daughter (From the Makeup Aisle)

A Daddy’s Letter to His Little Girl (About Her Future Husband)

If you have a chance, I strongly recommend reading these posts. I don’t care if you’re male or female, young or old, have daughters or not. They’re exceptional. They speak volumes not only about the pain and worries and insecurities so many of us women have felt at one time or another in our lives but also about the character of the man who wrote the posts.  My heart swells when I think about him and other men who can so deeply grasp and sympathize with these issues and who go to such directed efforts to help their daughters see beyond these influences, to reinforce to girls that they are intrinsically and unambiguously worthy of love.

My dad teaching me the importance of a classy chapeau.

I’m not going to go into the details of these and other posts.  You can read them for yourselves.  The question my friend and I pondered – my friend is the father of two daughters – is whether this and other male authors of such posts live and internalize the “male side” of these articulated beliefs.  I’m curious if they are representative of the men they would want their daughters to love and value.

It’s not for me to judge, even if they aren’t. But it’s just something I wonder about.

For instance, in the first post above, Dr. Flanagan encourages his daughter not to focus on her external beauty but rather to seek her value in her internal beauty and sense of self. He tells his daughter, “The world wants you to take your clothes off. Please keep them on.” I love what he and other dad-authors say about being strong and choosing your dream and not being worried about the exterior over the interior. 

But I did wonder, in the back of my mind, if the authors themselves are influenced by and attracted to a woman’s exterior, by flawless skin and youthful appearance, as much as any other men. I wonder if, beneath the higher thinking they demonstrate, they also see a stunningly attractive female “as a pretty face and a body to enjoy.” Do they actively seek out images of “hot” women, naked or otherwise? Do they find some small disappointment in how the faces and bodies of the women in their lives compare to the world’s standards of perfection?

The second post delivers an equally powerful message about what Dr. Flanagan will and will not consider important in the man his daughter chooses to be with.  I love, love, love, adore, value, worship (add your own verbs here) this message:  “Little One, it is not, has never been, and never will be your job to ‘keep him interested.’” I reread that statement a number of times, tears welling up in my eyes. This one hit home. It hit home hard.

Do you know how many men make it seem like it’s our job to keep them interested?  Not all men, most assuredly, but so very many.  Sorry… about to go on a rant… but I’ll reign myself in.  Suffice it to say that I fell a little in love with Dr. Flanagan with that one statement.

Again, Dr. Flanagan isn’t alone in posting these sentiments; he just happens to have articulated them in a way that was powerful for me. But other fathers are stating the same thing out in the webiverse, urging their daughters to stand strong as equal partners, to accept nothing less than complete respect and true adoration from the men they choose.

Which makes me curious about their relationships with women in their lives. Do they take responsibility for helping sustain the interest between themselves and their partners? Do they work hard to keep their love and desire alive? Or do they sometimes get complacent?  Do a few of them move beyond complacency toward allowing themselves to be open to emotional influence from another woman rather than deal with the challenge of facing an issue with their partner?

As I stated above, it’s not for me to judge. I’m not curious about these things with a focus on learning negative things or pointing fingers. I absolutely would not denigrate what these men say or downplay the importance and validity of their messages if they themselves were imperfect. They fact is, we’re all imperfect. Also, the relationships between these men and their wives or girlfriends is none of my business… for all I know, they might in fact be the role models we all want for the boys who someday will woo and win the hearts of our little girls.

I love what these men have to say (especially Dr. Flanagan... I think I'll start a fan club... or a Flan club... but no, that sounds like a foodie thing... nevermind). I value it more than I can express. It sings to me and reinforces my faith in people. Their words give me confidence in the world in which my children are growing up.

I’m just curious, that’s all.

Let’s Get Real: Feeling Insecure, Tummy After Baby… and All the Rest

A while back, I wrote a post that, in essence, encapsulated my belief in being happy with the way we look and not getting wrapped up in feeling inferior to models and actresses and porn stars and icons of beauty. For heavens’ sakes, we are born with a particular genetic make-up that defines what we’re going to look like and what our strengths will be (emotional, intelligence-wise, physically, etc); each of us is unique, and each of us should feel empowered and encouraged to embrace those positive elements of ourselves that set us apart.

After more than 40 years on this planet, simmering in this stew of images that I can’t possibly live up to, I have finally come to embrace and love my looks for the simple fact that they are mine, but that doesn’t mean I’m not hit with powerful moments of insecurity.  Of course I am.  These days I love myself the way I am, not because I suddenly see something different staring back at me in the mirror, but because I choose to focus on the good things with what I call “shake it off” thoughts.  As in, I shake off the negative with something positive.  It goes something like this, when I look in the mirror:

• Initial Thought:  Jeez, I seriously have no chest. And what’s there is, well, let’s be honest, it’s nothing to get excited about. And what do men dig? Boobs. Something I don’t have, something I’ll never have (and something, frankly, I have no interest in spending money to acquire).   Shake-It-Off Thought:  But you know what? I have kick-arse arms.* Yes, they may be a bit muscular for some, but I like their definition. I like how they physically represent my independence and strength, and darn it, they represent hard work!

• Initial Thought:  My face is so masculine. Why do I have to have such a masculine face? If only my jaw were a little less square or my nose maybe more petite. I look so harsh and overbearing.  Shake-It-Off Thought:  But you know what? I have pretty eyes and a genuine smile, and together they overcome the harshness of my other features. So I’ll just make sure to keep looking people in the eye, and I’ll find a million things to make me smile every day.

• Initial Thought:  I am so short. Not petite. Short. Stubby little legs. Men like “leggy,” and women want to be “leggy,” and if there’s one thing I’ll never be… it’s “leggy.”  Shake-It-Off Thought:  But you know what? My legs are strong, and they can run for hours. And if you can’t get into short, then you probably don’t need to be around me anyway. Besides, let’s face facts: I love being small.

We get into this mentality where we feel we need to compete for attention, for attraction, for love, even when the people from whom we want attention or attraction or love are supposed to be “ours.” We feel that we’re under constant threat of being deemed “less than” and being judged harshly against or even turned away for a newer, younger, taller, fitter, boobier model. And you know what – whether that comes from the people we adore or from our own internal demons, that sucks. It’s unacceptable.

We all need to do a better job of putting a stop to this kind of pressure and judgment, from others and from ourselves. We need to turn around these thoughts in our own heads, and we need to spend less time around the people in our lives who feed our insecurities.

In the spirit of “owning” this, I will share two images.  Here’s the set-up:  I am in the best shape of my life. No joke. I am stronger, fitter, slimmer (but not scrawny) and generally healthier than I have ever been.  I worked hard, over several years post-baby, to get to this point, and I work hard to stay fit. And yet, what do I tend to see first when I look in a mirror?  My stomach. Not the tight muscles of my core that help me stand straight and keep good form when walking and running… no, my eyes immediately go to the loose skin that is the hallmark of my pregnancies.  Because I can tighten the muscles all I want, but the skin covering those muscles was stretched in a way that simply will never bounce back. 

If I stand up straight, you can’t see it, but if my stomach is exposed and I bend forward at all, it ain’t a pretty sight.  So when I see myself in the mirror, instead of seeing this…

… I tend to immediately focus on this. And then I feel embarrassed and unattractive and decide that I want to live the rest of my life covered in multiple layers of sweaters. Maybe in Alaska.

 

Super hot. You know you want some of this.

So let’s promise to do this, together.  Let’s all try harder to focus on things like that first image above, on the positive, on the strengths we have naturally and those we’ve worked hard to establish. Let’s try to move past our initial, negative thoughts and to focus on our shake-it-off thoughts, our strengths, the things that make us feel strong and confident and, well… uniquely “us.”  And let’s do a better job of shutting out the people in our lives who – deliberately or inadvertently – steer us toward insecurity.

Won’t you join me?