A Series on Struggles: Comparison & Worthiness

Number Four:

Comparison & Worthiness

I've written about the idea of comparing myself to others a lot. I've written it into the ground, in fact. Yet, in spite of that, here I am writing about it again.

My current, and ongoing, struggle revolves around comparing myself to others and letting that comparison determine my worthiness or my self-worth.

This is vain, but my whole life I've dreamed of being beautiful. And I don't just mean nice-looking or pretty, but drop dead, make people stop and stare, heart-stoppingly beautiful. I don't know why I've always wanted to be that, but I have since I was a little girl. I know in large part it's due to the media and how people (both men and women) are asked to perceive themselves, but it's also due to the fact that I personally put value in looks. I'm not proud of this, but there it is. I feel like if I'm not beautiful like that, then I'm worth very little.

If you're my friend on Facebook, Instagram, Tumblr, or Twitter, you know I post a lot of pictures of myself. You may even think I'm super vain and think I'm super full of myself because I post so many pictures of my face. In reality, I post those photos because I'm in a continual state of desperately seeking approval and affirmation. I take photo after photo until I find one I don't absolutely hate, then I edit it to remove any flaws that I can, then I post it and wait for someone to tell me that I am what I wish I was: beautiful.

Why don't I think I'm beautiful now? Because I'm constantly comparing the way I look to the way others look. I'm constantly comparing different features of my face, my hair, and my body to my friends, to celebrities, and to strangers and finding that I am lacking. I've learned to hide it better than I used to, and I even don't think about it as much as I used to (which was always), but it's still there, and I still do it.

I went on an amazing birthday trip (blog post to come soon) that my husband planned this past weekend. We did so many fun things and took so many pictures. And yet, when I looked at the pictures today, all I could think was, "I should have stayed behind the camera, because being in these photos nearly ruins them." I took photos of my brother and his girlfriend, and they both look so great. Then they took photos of my husband and me...My husband is so handsome, I feel like it's a shame that I had to ruin the other half of the picture with my face or my size (which is, again, ever-so-quickly increasing). I couldn't get past the fact that I looked bad in the pictures and just appreciate the fact that my amazing birthday surprise weekend was documented to look at later. All I can see is how the way I look really, really upsets me.

Generally I try to end these blog posts with something that turns the way I think around, and I want to do that now, but emotionally I'm in a place that just won't let me say the things I think I'm supposed to. So instead I'll end with this:

I don't like the way I look, and that makes me severely unhappy. I don't want to be vain; I don't want my self worth or my perceived worthiness to be based on the fact that I don't like the shape of my head, or the way face and hair and body look; I don't want to compare myself to the women around me and feel like crawling in a hole afterward; I don't want any of these things, but they're there. My solution? I don't know yet...I need to love myself for who I am, but I also need to learn to let go of this desire to be out of this world beautiful. I think I'll stay behind the camera for a while, instead of trying to get positive feedback by being in front of it. Maybe if I don't put my face out there, I won't have to feel less than worthy if I don't get the feedback I secretly want. Maybe I'll learn to appreciate the positive things about myself and forget about looks for a while. I know I'll never be beautiful like I want, and I have to learn to be OK with that.

A Series on Struggles: Hyperactive Emotions

Number Three:

Hyperactive Emotions

Since I was little I've been a very emotional person. If something made me a little sad, I'd probably cry. If I thought something was a little mean, I'd probably get angry. If something was the least bit happy, I'd probably get really excited.

This can be good and it can be very, very bad. As I get older, I'm leaning more toward it being a very bad thing most of the time. I mean, is it good that I can be happy for people easily? Yes! But more often than not, I get my feelings hurt, I react poorly to something someone says or does, or I misinterpret things and react with my emotions before my head can catch up and it causes pain to either myself or the person I'm interacting with.

I'm starting to hate being this emotional and this sensitive. I keep asking myself why I'm like this. I don't want to be like this. Rather, I want to be able to take a joke and roll with it. I want to be able to brush off insults (imagined or real). I want to be able to be in an exciting or happy situation and not act like a moron. I don't want to cry all the time. I don't want to be this emotional roller coaster, because frankly, it's starting to make me nauseated. All the ups and downs and loop-de-loops are starting to wear on me in a very real way. I'm constantly afraid that I'm going to react to something someone says in the wrong way, and that makes me more tense, which makes my emotional sensitivity that much stronger. It's cliche, but it's a vicious cycle that I can't seem to find my way out of.

I like that I can experience emotions...but I feel like, more and more, I don't just experience them, I let them take me over.

When I was a teenager, I got dumped a few times. Every teenager gets dumped, but I felt like I was dying. I was told a few times that I was acting insane. In retrospect, I was. I was definitely experiencing those emotions fully, but should I have felt them so strongly? Should I have let them have such control over my body? My mind? My interactions with others? That was a decade ago, and I still let my emotions control me that much, if not more.

When Vince and I argue, again, it often feels like I physically won't survive it. Our arguments aren't generally that bad, but if I let the reins on my emotions loose, even a little bit, it's all over. I feel like it's the end. I'm aware of how crazy that sounds, but in those moments, those emotions are true.
Are they valid?
No.
Are they reasonable?
No.
But are they there? Are they almost tangible for me in those times?
Yes.

It all just makes me very tired. Ninety percent of the time none of this is an issue, but those times in the ten percent range--where my emotions pour out of me like lava spewing from a volcano--are so overwhelming and uncontrollable (even the good times) that I know it has to stop.

Recently I've been able to calm myself sometimes by using breathing techniques I learned in yoga. I sometimes practice my ocean breath (ujjayi pranayama) and my equal ratio breath (sami vritti) during times when I feel like sadness, or anger, or panic threaten to overtake me, but a lot of the time my emotional reaction takes me by surprise and causes upset and turmoil in my life.

I hope to use some things I'm learning in yoga (to help calm me down) as well as prayer and creative outlets to help offset these emotional time bombs ticking away in my head. Writing about it helps a lot, even if you all think I'm nutso now. Maybe, now that this too is out there in digital limbo, I can start working toward being a calmer, more rational human being.