(no subject)
Insecurity is a funny thing. Sometimes it’s a sneaky creature, slowly and steadily chipping away at your confidence until you are a whittled-down human toothpick. Other times, it’s abrupt and abrasive, smashing you into tiny shards of irreparable person. Recently, I’ve been suffering from insecurity of the human-toothpick variety; a consistent and creeping feeling that bears down on me. It’s a shame really, as I have many things to be proud of; many things to be confident in. In assessing my first year here in San Francisco, I’m astounded by the things I’ve seen and experienced, and by the qualitative change I’ve undergone. It’s been exciting, illuminating, beautiful, terrifying, painful…drastic. I’ve had to flesh things out as I encounter them; synthesize my experiences into a new, forward-moving perspective. It’s no easy feat, moving forward I mean. It’s tempting to wallow and backslide. The fear of getting stuck in the circumstances of living is ever-present and nagging, but something to actively cut against at every opportunity. I struggle with moving forward sometimes, and from this struggle stems the insecurity I’ve been feeling lately. Insecurity about my physical appearance (common of many women, and impressed upon us by sexist social relations), organizational competency and political clarity, my personal relationships with others (specifically feeling like I’m not respected), and so on…I do realize that is all very personalistic and lame, but there you have it. Although despite this current venture of mine into the understandable yet irritating world of self-confidence issues, I do recognize that I am an exceptional person with many things to offer to the world. Most people are actually. Human beings are amazing in their capabilities to create and work together. It floors me every time I really think about it. It’s the alienation that gets in the way. Debilitating, stagnating alienation.