We’re going to have to let the truth scream louder to our souls than the lies that have infected us. –Beth Moore

For nearly my entire life, I have felt inferior. I have felt second best, no matter what anyone has told me. To be completely transparent, I have even felt the lesser in my own family. My sister seemed to do everything first and far better. And while I don’t necessarily harbor any ill feelings about it now, I felt like I was always living in her shadow; like I was just never enough.

And honestly, not to bring on the pity party, but this trend just never died. I dated men that picked other women over me about a million times. They were prettier, much skinnier, more relaxed women. They were women who were a lot more fun and spontaneous; they were tattooed women who preferred paintballing to reading and doing shots of whatever to sipping whiskey.

It happened literally over and over. And as much as I loved working at the sexiest brand on earth, I really felt this insecurity there. I was never cool enough or sexy enough. I was uptight, a nerdy homebody, and married (can you imagine?). And although I don’t think it was intentional because quite frankly, all of those women (and men) were seriously great, my self esteem really took a hit.

And every time those women get together these days and I’m not invited for whatever reason, those disgusting insecurities just flare up like some rapid sex disease.

People shouldn’t be so comfortable giving their opinions out. –Dorinda Medley

I remember one time in specific, that I will never forget, that really enforced what I was feeling. I was all disgruntled because of my own aforementioned insecurities and I confessed them to someone I thought was up there in my group of friends. I said to her, “Sometimes in this environment, I feel like I’m the uncool kid at school.”

Let me preface her response by saying that owning up to your own insecurities is A, obviously not cool and B, definitely not sexy. No matter how charmingly honest and self-deprecating you think are.

And do you know what she did? She straight up laughed in my face. I never, ever forgot that. So much for women empowering women, am I right? I open up my heart and share my insecurities and she laughs in my face? I mean, I just cannot even. She was supposed to be “one of my girls”. How could she act like that? (She even pulled a little of that shit years later at my baby shower but whatever.)

And don’t misunderstand because I’m not being a mean girl. This is a blog about insecurities and their power over us. And although I thought she was totally f wording insensitive in that moment, if anything, maybe this woman had some of her own issues with self-confidence and that’s why she was being shitty. Maybe she acted superior because she was insecure and that’s how she made herself feel better. I’ve seen stranger things.

But why is it that we do this to ourselves?

I noticed with myself, when I had my daughter, my insecurities seemed to only heighten. Obviously, you go through a ton of changes that quite honestly, you cannot truly appreciate until you’ve done it for yourself.

Couple that with actually realizing that you’re a parent in charge of keeping a tiny human alive and holy crap. I don’t know that I even ate an actual meal or slept through the night that first year. And if I’m honest, I still have days where I feel like I’m failing.

My house will never be clean enough; I hate having people over. My pigmented skin has gotten so much darker from post baby hormones; I hate taking pictures. I’ve gained so much weight and have endured such body changes post baby; I hate getting dressed everyday. I don’t have adequate childcare so I pretty much work part-time; I hate talking about or thinking about money. I have this one friend who is always giving me advice about whatever the hell because apparently I can’t handle much or get anything right; it makes me super salty. Everyone, and I mean everyone, tells me all of the things I should and shouldn’t do with my daughter; it makes me feel ever inadequate.

Moral of the Crazy: But here is the thing about self-esteem: It can only bother you if you let it. And I am so weak when it comes to this. I won’t even pretend I’m not (because anyone who knows me knows I am the most insecure person of ever).

But in my moments of clarity, I try to tell myself that no one is thinking the things that I’m thinking about myself. That in all honesty, I get more compliments from random strangers than not. And honestly, sometimes people just say things without any malice. It’s not their fault that my lack of self-esteem makes me take things too personally.

I have this big thing about my past, about refusing to let it define me. But I didn’t realize that holding onto some of the insecurities I have from the past is kind of the same thing. It started with incessantly feeling inferior to my sister (to this day), continued with some of the romantic relationships I’ve had, and grew all the larger when I realized that sometimes girls are just cliquey in a working (or really any) environment.

It wasn’t them; it was me. I allowed them to let me feel inferior. I allowed them to let me feel like I wasn’t as pretty, smart, successful, etc. I somehow allowed them to have this power over me.

And okay, sure. That doesn’t really make me feel any better because obviously, that means I’m just doing it to myself. But I do see that confident woman in the mirror sometimes: the gifted musician, the compassionate social worker, and the arty girl who gets a serious high from writing.

And she’s grown: the understanding wife, the caring daughter and sister, the listening friend, and the mama that is still learning.

I wish I had an answer for this besides learning to love yourself but I don’t. It’s just that it is so much harder than it sounds. And it’s crazy to think that it would be a struggle to really love yourself. But I know so many people that do.

One of my closest girlfriends has always had what I would call “body issues”. And this is mostly because I can easily identify the same traits in myself. In the beginning, she was “average” but she went through some emotional stuff that caused her to develop a bit of an eating disorder. I don’t know that she would call it that and I’m not trying to air her dirty laundry; I just call them like I see them.

Now, she’s older; she’s moved cross country a couple of times and her body has changed. She is coming into her own, on her own. But what’s important about all of this is something that she said to me when we were talking about our insecurities one day.

She has been working really hard on working out and getting fit. She records herself and posts all these pictures and videos on social media that are totally inspiring. And about them, she said to me, “I push myself to post these because I see myself shake and struggle. I want to keep posting until I don’t see that anymore because I’m too distracted by how badass I am. And how far I’ve come.”

And that really struck a chord with me because it shouldn’t be about anyone else. It should be about you and what you’ve become. It should be how proud you are of yourself.

It should be a love affair with yourself.

And for me personally, I’m learning. I’m trying to fall in love with myself. I’m trying to remember that I have good intentions always. I’m trying to remember that I grew a human inside of my body for ten months; that now I have an extremely active child that sometimes keeps me too busy to get things done.

That I’m doing my absolute best everyday and that if I don’t love myself first, no one else will. And that, like Eleanor said, people can only make me feel inferior with my own consent.

The greater the artist, the greater the doubt. Perfect confidence is granted to the less talented as a consolation prize. –Robert Hughes