Updating My Software

A while back, I posted about my doppleganger and said she was Me Two point O. (Me 2.0).

A few of my friends chuckled. It was just me being self-deprecating again. Ha ha.

But it was a fear wrapped in humor. 

Because what no one knows is that after that post I made a shiv out of that fear and stabbed my confidence with it for a couple of weeks. 

(BTW, I'm really good at torturing myself. Believe me, you don't have to critique me, I excel at it. I could fucking teach a workshop. Of course people will still criticize me, so maybe this tangent was unnecessary.)

But, yes. I truly did believe there was someone out there who did me better than me. 

It looks ridiculous written down like that, but it didn't feel that way. There were just so many interconnected similarities (we had the same name, same features from same culture, same interests, hell even same location), it wasn't hard to start comparing. 

But fear is a natural reaction to moving towards the truth.  (Pema Chodron)

You know how Florida got built? They built a civilization on top of limestone being held up by water pressure. Yup, water pressure. And when that ground water goes bye-bye and nothing is holding up that limestone anymore, know what happens? Yeah, a fucking sinkhole.

Whole state is caving into itself.

So, it was like that. I was Florida. I wasn't as mentally strong as I thought I was. I built myself on this delicate limestone of identity, and I was alarmed to discover that it was being held up by self-perfection.  Otherwise, why the fuck was I having a cave-in inside me because this chick existed?

Ugh. Pathetic. When did I become this way? Had I always been this way? How the hell did that happen?

I realized that I had done myself a disservice by not doing the work of finding out more about myself. I had to dig deep to find another layer to my identity. It had to be more than what I'd been using to self-identify who I thought I was. It had to be something that had nothing to do with my features, or my parentage, or my culture. Something that I had to discover about myself.

What did I stand for? What did I want? What kind of person was I trying to be? 

So, I did the work. I mean, I'm still doing it. I probably always will. It feels that way, anyway.

It sucks. Lots of pain. You have to face certain truths about yourself. Absorb the disappointments you keep trying to ignore. Look at those flaws you keep trying to hide.

I discovered lots of things. Some I'm ashamed to admit, others that surprised me. But overall, I didn't know shit about myself. I wasn't as complete as I thought I was.

But I'm getting there.

Next week is a test for me. It's Nationals and that means I will be among other writers. Some of them will have similar journeys to mine to be there: when they discovered their love of writing at an early age, how they love reading books, and what they're working on right now.

It will be easy to start comparing, to start thinking everyone there is equal to each other, and that's simply not true. I have to remember that everyone's path is different, and that's none of my business. I need to keep my eyes on my own path without judging that theirs is easier or harder. 

And I think I'm ready for this trial by fire. I've trained for it all year. My foundation is something stronger now. It's this cement  made of self-forgiveness, vulnerability, and love. And it has hardened into strength and a certainty of self.

And I think I'm ready. I've trained myself to avoid the bad habits that nearly destroyed me. I will not succumb to the temptation of comparing. I will not be lured into the belief of scarcity. I will remove that blanket of jealousy when it tries to cover my shoulders.

It doesn't matter if someone else is more successful or wins all the awards or has the crowd surrounding them.

Because I know who I am. And it was more than I thought.

I'm more than what I do for work. I'm more than a writer. I'm more than a wife. I'm more than a daughter. I'm more than a sister. I'm more than a friend. I'm more than an animal lover. I'm more than an artist. I"m more than a gardener. I'm more than a girl who likes make up.

I'm just So. Much. More.

And God, I'm amazing.