Sunday Poetry: Self Confidence
Originally published at biblio + chic {infatuated with books}. Please leave any comments there.
This Sunday I have been thinking a lot about how I have changed over the past 10 years (since I began high school). In some ways, I think I am much the same person, but lately I’ve begun to realize how much I have really changed. If I asked my friends that I still see from high school, I think they would say the same. Last night I attended a gorgeous, beautiful wedding for 2 wonderful friends of mine. The night was spectacular, the band phenomenal, and all I wanted to do was converse and dance and just have fun and be in the moment. I adore weddings.
In high school, I was shy, timid-painfully so. I didn’t involve myself in many activities (to my regret, now), and I had a close knit group of friends (I don’t regret this, at all). I had no confidence in myself. I had no idea how to speak for myself. As the eldest child of 5, I didn’t have many examples to teach me how to speak out in the world.
Today I talk and laugh and smile and enjoy others, even strangers, with almost complete ease. I still suffer from anxiety as I used to, especially when I’m alone with a group of strangers, but I know how to overcome the situation. I know that I am a fun, cheerful person, that can make others laugh, and that can hold a conversation on my own. I will always have some self confidence issues-who doesn’t?-but I know that I have overcome some of the biggest hurdles in keeping me from forming connections with others.
I have many people to thank for this: some of my former supervisors, college professors, and even friends and family. I have learned by example. I have learned by being forced. And it has been a rocky path along the way, but I am ever grateful.
Today I only have a few bits of my own poetry to share-words that show the struggles I have had with my self confidence. I have worked every day since being a teenager to overcome this anxiety, and I think I finally realize how much success I have had.
Finding
I’m seeking a new confidence,
a way to say, “I’m here, I matter.”
Maybe a way to love myself,
so that I can let others love me.
Wholly.
Fully.
Completely.
I shy from your touch.
Run from your words.
They sting, you know,
a thousand prickers in my
skin and fleshy heart.
A real feeling for something
so emotionally hurtful.
Today
Nervous eye twitch,
ticking, teasing my temple,
tummy tumbling,
tongue-tied,
impossibility.
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