I was raised with a guilty conscience.
A guilty conscience and a low self-esteem.
I'm sorry about that, really.
Do you have any idea just how debilitating a guilty conscience with a side order of self-loathing can be? No? Well, pretty debilitating is the correct answer.
You see, the problem with this little accidental glitch in my ingredients is that I always end up apologising. I apologise because I feel so damn guilty about everything. And feeling guilty about everything makes me feel like an idiot, which just goes to fuel my low self-image. A vicious circle, really.
My days are pockmarked with me feeling bad about stuff. I'm sorry I couldn't do more. I'm sorry you got stuck in traffic. I'm sorry I missed your call. I'm sorry I forgot your card. I'm sorry I didn't invite your kid to my kid's party. I'm sorry I parked so close behind you that you had to do a 15 point turn to get out. I'm sorry I smell like I've been working in the garden all day, it's just that I've been working in the garden all day. I'm sorry I can't help you next week. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about my disease. I'm sorry I can't lend you something to wear. I'm sorry you sneeze every time you come over. I'm sorry for snoring, hope it didn't bother you too much. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
Pretty lousy, no?
So why is it, then, that I can glibly analyse this maladjustment from the safety of my keyboard and still harbour it as a crucial part of my genetic make-up? I guess the difference comes in what you know with your head, and what you believe with your heart. These things can be so vastly different to each other, and the truth is, you tend to go with what you feel, more than what you know.
What you feel inside is a remnant of your creation. your forming. When you were being built up, bit by bit, in the early years, processes and ideas fell into the cement of your youth and became so embedded into your system, that they are still the things that help to define you.
When I was 12, I asked my dad if he thought I was pretty. Now this man, God love him, picked the wrong moment to flex his funny-muscle. He said to me, at that terribly insecure and vulnerable age, "There's nothing wrong with you, Daughter. Nothing that a panel beater couldn't fix, anyway!" What he said has stuck with me till today, and I have picked his answer apart so many times and have seen and understood it for the poor attempt at humour that it was, and yet it dwells in my foundation as a warped whisper constantly pulling at my certainty and security. I battle to see past my flaws. I struggle to accept that others see past my flaws. And I fear that this affects my relationships over time.
So why do I mention this? I don't know. I guess I wanted to remind myself of how impressionable my children (and yours) are. I want to remember that my kids will value everything they are told by me, whether it be the truth, or a joke, and my words will dissolve into the brick and mortar that builds them, and live on in them whether they are factual or false. My words are my gift to my children. I hope only that they will unleash incredible potential in my offspring instead of anchoring them in irrelevant concerns and angst.
Already I feel like I've failed more times than I care to remember, for which I do apologise. And I'm sorry I'm saying sorry again. It's really pathetic, I know. No-one wants to read stuff about people feeling sorry for themselves - so sorry!
See what I mean?
3 years ago
3 comments:
V v well written. I'm sorry too that you feel like you have to say sorry all the time, it must be exhausting to carry that around.
Me, I feel sorry for everyone else. I can't count how many times a day I say "shame, I feel so sorry for him/her". I feel sorry for everyone. Not in a condescending way, but in a a real angst, empathetic way.
Like now, I am thinking "shame, I feel so sorry for Jessica, what can I do to make it better". It's exhausting too, because I so easily take on other people's pain as my own. The curse of being the oldest one, "the responsible one".
We all carry baggage. But yes, you are so right, it is so important to think how our actions and words affect our children in their formative years.
PS I dont think you smell like garden.
As I started to read your post I automatically thought back to something I heard somewhere...who knows where...that girls get their self esteem from their relationship with their dads. So if that relationship is strong, so is the self-esteem.
Here's an experiment: Refrain from apologizing for one day and then look back at the day and see how you feel. Or, instead of saying sorry...try saying "that's too bad" or something similar. It may help to start breaking the habit.
I can't believe I was so insensitive - but if you remember it, it must have happened. To me you were always the most beautiful child I knew, let alone pretty, and right on into adulthood and motherhood, just so very special. So please allow me, however belatedly, to apologize for doing something to you that not even a panel-beater could fix.
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