There has been a question on my mind lately. And this is it: are we allowed to hold ourselves to a higher standard than the standard the people who know and love us best? Or does it inevitably result in feelings of discouragement, apathy, and disillusionment?
I was raised to be independent. Goal-driven. Ambitious.
And in all fairness, I would say that I have become what I was raised to be. (Lamentably so, sometimes, according to my parents. They sometimes wish their children leaned on their shoulders a little more often. And unfortunately, I often tend to view a proffered shoulder to cry on as a crutch.)
I'm also the sort of person who enjoys a challenge. Who thrives on challenge. And who, at these moments, feels that every time she doesn't allow herself to be challenged, she's folding in a little bit on herself. Does that make any sense? It does to me, but I'm the one writing.
Sometimes I look at all of the people in my life who love me and who are impressed with me, and I can't help but wonder if they are a little bit delusional. Because right now, to be quite frank, I am less than impressed with myself. I'm beyond un-impressed with myself. And though I'm trying to change that, change comes slow.
And I'm wondering if I need to change me at all, really. Or if I simply need to change the way I view myself. As bright as I am, I can't believe it took me twenty-four years to realize that I'm harder on myself than anyone else I know. I forget that the people who know me are looking at me with two good eyes.
And that, apparently, there's obviously something there worth seeing.
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"are we allowed to hold ourselves to a higher standard than the standard the people who know and love us best?"
I say yes.
"Or does it inevitably result in feelings of discouragement, apathy, and disillusionment?"
I say--well, "inevitably" is SUCH a strong word.
It's easy to want to reject as biased the praises of those who love us, but I think that the goal ought to be to love ourselves as we are loved--and I don't mean that we ought to mollycoddle ourselves into complacency; I don't think that's any sort of love at all. Maybe there's something wrong with me (it's a distinct possibility), but, when this little Butterfly thinks about that far-off gem called "love," he envisions its pinnacle being straight-forward yet inoffensive criticism. I think praise and applause are great, but all I ever really want is someone to give practical advice on how I can improve.
I don't blame you for feeling to reject the glossy-eyed praise of a well-meaning parent or friend when you know you could be doing better. But I think that if you can accept such praise and applause as sufficient evidence that you are worth improving (like you said), it can be helpful in its own right.
The hard part, I suppose, is to refrain from pounding your head against whatever wall your up against long enough to look for a door....
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