I constantly felt as a child and young adult the need to be told how great I am. When I was little, I asked my mother if she loved me every single day, multiple times a day.
I don’t know where this lack of confidence in myself came from at such a young age. There is no trauma that I know of that would lead me to need such reassurance.
I had good grades in school, but I was not praised for them publicly.
Maybe it was because the teachers felt the need to praise the kids who were struggling to give them the encouragement they needed to improve.
Maybe they thought my grades would be reassuring enough.
Maybe they felt if they praised me it would go to my head and I would become obnoxious and boastful.
Maybe, they just didn’t think about me at all.
Maybe I built up a tendency to victimise myself and focus solely on the negativity in my life.
This put me off competing because I couldn’t bear the thought of losing, much less the thought of winning and being ignored. Nuts, right?
I have carried this pain of neglect, this feeling of invisibility, into adulthood. At this point, I’m not sure it matters why, but how I get through it.
Jealousy, Our Fake Friend
Photo by michael schaffler on Unsplash
It’s so easy to be jealous of others.
I have even envied my own husband. He comes across as lucky and flukey because everything just seems to work out for him.
He’s had the random pay-rises and promotions. He’s made some bold choices with extremely high stakes and somehow, they’ve paid off in full.
Devonte is a gambler at heart and he always wins. Of course, I celebrated all of his successes — actually way more than he did, which annoyed me. I would get angry at the fact he didn’t feel ecstatic about his achievements. He didn’t feel phased by my pride, which made it worse.
Devonte would shrug me off with a comment about how he gave himself no other option. His famous line is, still today,
“This was always expected of me.”
Failure was never an option in school and it wasn’t going to be one in his career or anything else he set out to do. He was either first or last, there was no second place. And there was no praise, either, which confused me.
I often mistook his humbleness for arrogance.
I was jealous of the intrinsic belief in himself.
The thing it boils down to in the end is exactly this.
Jealousy breeds hate in many forms, even towards those closest to us.
Haters Gon’ Hate
It turns out the hostile attitude we show towards those who have made it is mostly a reflection of our own lack of confidence. I know because I have felt it.
I was once the jealous hater of those who posted on social media, showing off their perfect lives with their perfect family and their perfect job and outstanding accomplishments. I bet you read that sentence in the tone I set it in because you are familiar with it too, regardless of how much you as a person engaged with it. If you didn’t, you’ll know someone who did.
I have been within the group of people who didn’t support my friends’ new venture by liking or sharing their business pages because I thought, or rather hoped secretly, they wouldn’t make it. But not because I didn’t wish them every success in life, but because I was jealous of my own lack of will to do and be successful.
Being Your Own Biggest Fan
Photo by Ben Mater on Unsplash
I decided recently to start celebrating my own milestones publicly. And, the most supportive and vocal about sharing with me my happiness are people who don’t know me but follow my work.
My closest friends and family, of course, support me, but I have found myself feeling disheartened when I don’t get much engagement from people I know.
I was dipping into the same pattern of thinking as when I was a child. I started victimizing myself and feeling sorry for myself because I didn’t think my friends supported or liked my work.
But then I had a light bulb moment.
I cannot rely on them. But not because they’re bad friends.
Because everyone is busy trying to grind themselves.
I cannot rely on people to make me feel successful in the same way I cannot rely on anyone to feel happy and fulfilled.
My friends are not my friends because of the value I add as a writer.
My friends are my friends for different things — because of our common values, our time working together, because of the kids…
either way, just because I don’t feel that I’m supported much, it doesn’t mean that’s absolutely true, and it certainly doesn’t mean they are less of a friend to me.
And that’s a hard thing to figure out, but absolutely liberating. To know I only have to rely on myself to be happy with my own work is a relief in theory.
But it is actually much harder in practice because I am often too hard on myself. It holds me accountable for my own good work. It gives me the chance to look at my work in a more objective manner and really improve.
And this is possibly why so many people don’t make it. It is actually easier to complain about the lack of support we get than it is to really work hard at being our own biggest fan.
Last Words
It is OK to feel jealous or bitter of others as long as you figure out the real reason behind those feelings and turn them into something positive.
My best friend, just last night, spoke about how hard it is to not take anything personally. But she at least knows not to. Applying that, although hard, is only possible with that knowledge.
So, mind your business, create your own standards of success, and hold yourself accountable for it.
Most of all, be your own biggest fan, for otherwise, it won’t matter who else supports you.
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This post was previously published on medium.com.
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Photo credit: Alexander Naglestad on Unsplash