Cleaning House & Inferiority Complexes
It’s time to clean house. I’ve had this particular piece sitting around in draft status for an extended period of time. When Le Clown so graciously asked me to contribute to Black Box Warnings many moons ago, I really wanted to, but I felt the piece I am sharing here wasn’t good enough. Basically, I felt like my writing wasn’t good enough to be featured on Black Box Warnings. Most of those people had been Freshly Pressed, and I never had. Hell, I still haven’t been Freshly Pressed! Oh well, fuck those haters over there at WP. See if I send them a fruit basket for Xmas!
I still plan on writing something for Black Box Warnings, if they’ll have me, and I hope to work on it over the holidays. But I thought I would post this so all of you can share in my inferiority complex. Surely I can’t be the only one who suffers from the “not good enough syndrome”, especially when it comes to writing! I think the first two paragraphs of this are the best, so after that you may want to stop reading. Oh, and remember, I wrote this months ago, and the “boyfriend” I am referring to is no longer the “boyfriend” because he’s the fuck stick that beat me up.
The carnies are fighting outside the office window as I sit here writing this. No, I don’t work for the carnival, or the circus. It just so happens that the carnies are camped out near my office; close enough that I can see their trailers, and hear them bitching about something as they walk past.
The irony of the situation doesn’t escape me. I am trying to write up a post for Black Box Warnings, after Le Clown so kindly mentioned the other day, he would welcome a contribution from me. Get it?? Carnies?? Le Clown?? Fucking irony. I am honored to have been asked, as someone who doesn’t consider themselves to be good enough. I don’t feel like a good enough writer to be here.
Most days I don’t feel good enough, or smart enough, or thin enough, or pretty enough. Lately it’s been worse than usual. I am full of self-doubt as my son makes the transition to living with his dad. I don’t feel like a good enough mother by just relinquishing my residential custody to his dad. Do I believe in my heart of hearts that my son going to live with his dad at the age of 12 is the best thing? Yes, I do, or I would have fought it. But still, self-doubt set in.
Self-doubt is like a cancer cell, and it’s the fast growing kind, metastasizing. One or two mistakes at work led me to thinking that maybe I don’t deserve to have my job. That I’m not smart enough to do my job and maybe they should just fire me and find someone else to do it. So it doubled.
Hearing from my boyfriend last night, that yet another woman he had gone to high school with had friended him on Facebook, and how they had a long conversation about where she lives now, and what she does, and how she said he should visit her in Alaska, led me to thinking maybe I’m not pretty enough for him. Maybe the women he is friends with on Facebook look better than me, and he will want them more than he wants me, and he will leave me for one of them. So it tripled.
While typing this post I have written, and rewritten, read and reread all of it at least ten times, feeling like the words I’ve put down aren’t good enough. I feel like they’re not clever enough, that I haven’t put my feelings down clearly enough to convey my point. So it quadrupled.
Where did all of the self-doubt start? Can I blame it on my parents? I think it began there, with my dad telling me I didn’t do good enough in the basketball game and wanting to know why I didn’t do better; with my mother always talking about how unhappy she was with her body. But it’s not all their fault. Can I blame it on the media? Yes, some of it I think I can. Images on pages, or flashed across the TV screen, of nearly flawless women, with perfectly proportioned bodies, making young girls like me believe that sort of look is obtainable. Never do they mention how much genetics play a part in how your body is shaped, or how they airbrush pictures to take out every blemish and reshape every hip or breast to achieve that seemingly perfect look. Can I blame it on past relationships? Blame it on the men who told me I wasn’t good enough, either through actual spoken words, or by their fucking other women and leaving me for them? Yes, partially they are to blame too. Can I blame it on myself? Well, of course I can, because I’m not smart enough, or pretty enough, or thin enough, or kind enough, or giving enough, or funny enough, or. . . .
Fat Bottom Girl Said What 
From someone un-Freshly Pressed to another, I will say you are most worthy
Thank you, my dear Jack, and right back atcha! 🙂
Nahhh, the editors on WordPress will never reward a guy like me. Not when they can put Picture out a Bus Window on Freshly Pressed. I mean who isnt gonna want to see that?
Ooh. . .I’ve been waiting to see that!!! hahaha Just kidding!!
As a mother this is my lifes work, to ensure my children believe they are amazing and that they learn to really love themselves before they do another.
We all have inferioritys, but need to keep a handle on them. Not to let them overwhelm us or skew our thinking. My new year resolution is to get over my writing insecurity and put my writing out there. I have never up to now shared my writing anywhere but on my blog.
I have been reading your blog quite a while, and I don’t know if you’d agree, but what I am reading in your posts now is far removed from the way you were writing when that AH was in your life. I wonder if you rewrote this post from scratch how it would turn out now.
Best wishes.
Probably much differently! I seem to be getting a handle on my own self-worth.
Where are you planning on sharing your work?
I have no idea. Maybe i will enter a few writing competitions and even approach a publication to see if they are interested. I am sweating just writing this!
Good luck! I bet you’ll do great! You’ve got more guts than me.
What I get from this post is pain and self-doubt. It is honest and well-written, and if that is what you were trying to convey, well, bravo (!).
And you are right — I don’t know anyone who has not suffered pangs of “not good enough” (was that a double negative?), whether they admit it or not. And ESPECIALLY those insecure writers! ME INCLUDED !!!
As for Freshly Pressed — who wouldn’t want the Golden Ticket, the party invite from the cool kids, or the People’s Choice Award to place on their mantle, er, blog’s sideboard? But, being seen almost seems like a crap shoot. Just look at the numbers: out of the many hundreds of thousands of posts, only a handful are plucked out of the lottery shoot.
You’re the writer, you are in control, in command of your thoughts and words. Flush the other shit down the toilet where they/it belongs!!
Whew! That felt good 🙂
Many of the blogs I follow have been FP’d. Of course after being FP’d a lot of them say it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. They get a shit-ton of new followers, who only follow because they think it’s the cool thing to do, and aren’t really supportive. Honestly, I would much rather have the followers I do, who are extremely supportive of me, not only as a writer, but me as a person. My reasons for writing this blog weren’t to get published, but to purge the demons from my brain. In that sense, this blog has served me well.
I think the pain and self-doubt really came through in that piece because of where I was at in my life. I was in an abusive relationship at the time. I had allowed him to fill my head with emotionally abusive garbage, so I felt like an inferior piece of crap, and it bled over into all areas of my life. Thank god he is gone!!! And like the phoenix, I shall continue to rise!
At this point, I am okay with being “the odd man out”, a relative “virgin” in the blogosphere since I have not felt the Midas touch of WP. Fuck ’em. Hmmm.. .maybe they don’t like the fact I use the work fuck so much. lol
Thanks for commenting!!
You’re very welcome! I’m glad that’s in the past. Writing can be very cathartic and is partly the reason I’m here too. As for the swearing? Part of the title of my last post: Are you an asshole? I laughed when I wrote it, thinking, that won’t be picked up for FP! lol
You know I have never written anything with FP in mind. I really only care about whether my followers like what I write. 🙂
Me too! 🙂
You are more than good enough! More than smart enough, pretty enough, thin enough, kind enough, giving enough, funny enough…on and on and on.
But you’re not the only one to be enough and not feel enough. I’m not smart enough, or friendly enough. I’m not pretty enough or outgoing enough. I’m not enough of most anything most days – except enough of a fuck-up. Then I remember SNL in the 90s and laugh, because gosh darn it, we are good enough.
And gosh darn it! People like us!!! Oh hell, who are we kidding? WE TOTALLY FUCKING ROCK!! Thanks Mel!! Now get out there and get you some Xmas nookie!! 😉
We do TOTALLY FUCKING ROCK!!
Nookie is not on my Christmas list this year. I’ll go out, have a beer and listen to music, but I’ll come home as alone as I left. 🙂
But you will be the rockin-est chick there! ! And totally flirt with every guy in the place and leave alone. That’s the absolute best!! Lol
Absolutely!! I can have fun and still have the middle of the bed.
My heart goes out to you on this post. I think you are a lovely writer who is brave enough to be vulnerable in such a public setting. Not for the faint of heart! As a woman, especially as a sister fat bottom girl, I identify with much of what you wrote. A couple of women who changed my life & self-image for the better: Mama Gena (www.mamagenas.com) and Jena la Flamme (www.pleasurableweightloss.com). Jena talked about how it’s the media’s job to keep us unhappy with ourselves to drive the diet/exercise/cosmetic surgery/beauty/pharmaceutical industries & keep them thriving. I think it’s a valid point. Hope you’re feeling better 🙂
I am feeling much better! Some of that stuff was all situational. It is a struggle some days to feel “good enough”, but as long as I have positive people in my life, it’s much easier. Thanks so much reading and commenting! We FBGs have to stick together!
I had to constantly deal with both my parents treating me as an idiot as a child. I moved away and didnt talk to them for ten years. Mom got the message, but dad didn’t.
As for you, you’re like ths FBG dreamgirl to me. Cause you make me chortle. Hey!! There’s that word again. Is there something wrong with laughing in the future?
I shall now work on trying to make you guffaw!!