After a long and searching talk with Liz and her Bunny, I am feeling a little vulnerable. Seems like when the skin is thin and the self is visible that all the things I fear are as close as I imagine them. Most days I feel certain that the mask will slip and the world will see me for the fraud that I am. Will I ever be smart enough? pretty enough? connected enough? loved enough? Yes and no are answers that seem equally likely.
It just isn't ever enough, whatever it is, to make me feel whole. It's a ridiculous search when I don't even know what I am looking for so intently. Am I even looking for anything? I have so much, have survived so much, endured so much. Who am I to want anymore than what I already have?
I want to be the kind of person who doesn't feel undeserving. That was a pretty backwards way of saying that I want to feel like I deserve to be happy. For the longest I have tried to convince myself that happiness is an illusion created by politicians and greeting card companies. Is it possible that there is some joy at the spaces between suffering?
greetings, human!
9 years ago
1 comment:
Back when I used to blog on Myspace, I wrote about my struggle with "imposter syndrome" or "please don't let them find out that I don't belong here." Very simply put, I knew the hot mess that I used to be, and as someone who is now perceived, for the most part, as having their shit together, I worried that my past self would be found out, and "they," whoever that might be, would kick me out.
But this is all bullshit. You deserve everything you have and more.
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