Ever have those moments when your self-confidence just dries up and blows away?
When instead of focusing on the myriad of things you can do well, and do do well, you focus instead on what you struggle to do? Or don’t do at all anymore because you suck at that particular thing… and so you gave it up and now you think you should try again because, well, giving up is like failing. Or you look at all the things that you thought you did well, and suddenly they look silly, or trivial, not as important, or essential to the world as the things everybody else you know does well. Suddenly it seems as if what you bring to the table is not of much value.
Do you ever have those crisis of confidence moments?
|Photo by Krista Hudson|
Maybe you focus on your personal appearance. And all of a sudden, your totally realistic idea of yourself as reasonably attractive, when you put in the effort, is blown clean out of the water. And all you see are the physical attributes on which you’d rather not focus. The fact that you really don’t have a chin, except in certain pictures when you have three too many. Or the creeping weight gain, and the middle-age middle. Or that posture problem, and the small but worrying widow’s hump in your back. Or that spot of thinning hair at the back of your head. And you are catapulted back to pre-puberty days. “Mu-um… why can’t I have boobs like all the other girls? Why am I so skinny? Why is my face so round, and my hair so frizzy?” Except the complaints are now almost the antithesis of what they were when you were thirteen.
Sigh. Do you ever have those moments? Or days? Or weeks?
Yeah. Me too. In fact I’m having one now. I guess I’m still in a funk, but this time I blame Eileen Fisher. Well, not her personally. But that lovely, linen knit Eileen Fisher tunic I bought a couple of months ago. Because as much as I loved it when I bought it, and loved it still the first few times I wore it, suddenly my love for it is waning.
Mostly because I took some really unflattering shots of me in it. And I began to notice that the neckline is not that great on me. Nor the drape of the fabric in the front, which makes me look quite buxom, and top-heavy. Partly that’s because of the bra I have to wear under it, and partly because… that’s the way I am. Top heavy. And quite a bit bigger around the middle than I’d like. And whereas a structured, slim cut top with a bit of fullness in the front can make me forget that my middle-age middle is there… a longer, much fuller top like this makes me look as if I’m trying to hide a stomach. Which of course I am.
|Photo by Krista Hudson|
I should probably say that my current funk, isn’t entirely down to Eileen Fisher, or my Eileen Fisher tunic, to be precise. Not entirely brought on by that dreadful shot of me, with all my worst sides showing at once. But partly due to other things in life, not insurance worries, or computer issues, that have me feeling a bit down, and which I don’t really want to get into. And also partly due to some blogging woes, which I’ll tell you about another time, in another post.
And I should also confess that I deleted all the really bad shots of me in this tunic. The worst ones with the boobs, and the stomach, and the hump. Much worse than I look in the shot Krista took above. Krista is a teacher buddy of mine. Well, she’s a principal now, and a really great photographer. We spent an afternoon walking around Manotick in May, yakking and taking photos. And we plan to try the photo shoot thing again this summer. When I will not be wearing my Eileen Fisher tunic.
So what does one do when one is deep into a crisis of confidence, anyway? When the old self image is waning, instead of waxing?
Don’t look at me. I don’t have the answers.
Wait it out maybe. Know that this too shall pass. Give yourself a good shake, and a serious talking to. Remember all the things that you have done that were awesome. Put on a great outfit that makes you look fabulous, do your hair and make-up, and swan up and down the mall knowing that you are fabulous. Perhaps channeling Joanna Lumley in Absolutely Fabulous. Ha. If you see me doing this, you’ll know for sure that I’ve had a bad week.
Or maybe simply write it all down, like I just did. All the hyperbolic, self-critical, nonsense and then read it over and chuckle ruefully, knowing that whether we’re thirty-one or sixty-one, we’re still really thirteen… deep inside.
P.S. Please don’t read this post as a plea for compliments. As I said. I’m good. Really. But just in case, I think I’ll put some lipstick on, pour myself a glass of champagne, and maybe watch a few videos of Absolutely Fabulous on You Tube.
What do you do when you find your self-confidence waning instead of waxing?