Fatal Attraction

I find it fascinating how conclusions drawn from seemingly unrelated incidents can turn out to be very much connected. I have found my thoughts returning to the topic of self-esteem several times over the past couple of weeks. I have also been wondering why it is that we sometimes end up with "friends" who hurt us. In all of this thinking and wondering, I have come to yet another realization. I'm going to talk about this particular revelation in regards to being a woman, so guys, I apologize. Don't think that I don't realize many of you struggle with the same issues; I've just been seeing this a lot in my own life and in the lives of other ladies lately, so that's the way this blog is going to go. Girls, this one's for you.

I think as women we tend to struggle so much with comparing ourselves to each other. It's horribly cliché, but I think we really do end up feeling a lot of pressure from the world to look, dress, act, etc. in a certain way, and since the vast majority of us don't fit into that "perfect" mold, we end up believing all of these lies about ourselves: we're not pretty enough, smart enough, thin enough, sexy enough, feminine enough . . . that we're not "enough" in general. The really sad part of it all is that we're so used to the lies that half the time we don't even realize that we believe them. Whether we realize that we believe them or not, those lies are often some of our most closely held beliefs about who we are.

Every girl desires to be loved. Most of us have caught ourselves wishing at some point or another that we'd find our Prince Charming or Knight-in-Shining-Armor who would make us feel like princesses. The problem is, many of us have also been ensnared in the lie that we don't deserve to be loved like that.

Most people are under the rather misguided impression that "opposites attract." While that's true in some respects (some difference is good—it's good to be able to play off each other's strengths and weaknesses in a relationship), people tend to be attracted to people with similar characteristics and beliefs.

This leaves us in a sort of strange place. We want to be loved, but we don't believe we deserve love . . . so we end up with friends (and, unfortunately, "significant others") who don't seem to believe that we deserve love either. They'll treat us just well enough that we'll rationalize and claim that they really are our friends or that they really do love us, even though just about anyone on the outside of the relationship is able to see that the relationship is hurting us more than it's helping us.

I really believe that's why so many women end up in abusive relationships that they can't get out of. I also believe it's one of the reasons that we struggle to let go of the lies we've come to believe about our worth: if someone I claim as a close friend confirms with his or her behavior toward me what I already believe about myself, it's going to take a lot more to change my mind than if I'm the only thing standing in my way of breaking free of that lie.

Self-Esteem (or, "Do As I Say, Not As I Do")

I had an interesting revelation on Wednesday as I was talking with a couple of friends. One of them was frustrated because boys were being stupid (unfortunately, this seems to be a trend for many of my friends right now). At some point in the conversation, she began making derogatory comments about her looks. My other friends and I immediately assured her that she was, in fact, beautiful, that any boy who would ignore her must be an idiot, etc. Her response was simply, "Yeah, right . . . "

I have conversations like that one more often than I'd like to. It breaks my heart that so many girls struggle with self-esteem. I was profoundly bothered by this particular conversation . . . I honestly wanted to cry for my friend, because she truly is a beautiful person, inside and out.

My revelation came later, as the conversation continued: I hold a ridiculous double standard when it comes to the issue of self-esteem.

The same friend asked me a question later in the evening, calling me "Lovely." I told her I didn't know who she was talking to when she said that. She called me "beautiful," and I protested. I eventually admitted to my her that I don't think I'm hideous; I'm just simply not a drop-dead-gorgeous, boys falling at my feet sort of girl.

It's funny how I can be so caught up in wanting to make someone feel better that I can be completely blind to my own attitudes.

I actually realized the double standard that night. Unfortunately, while admitting that there is a problem may be the first step to solving the problem, it's not the only step. I did the same thing on Thursday night. I was going swing dancing with the girls in my hall, and I found myself making comments about how I was actually going to look beautiful that night, since I was going to wear a dress and put on makeup.

I hold a similar double-standard in several areas of my life, I've realized. I don't want to cry in front of people; when I do so, I feel it's a sign of weakness. However, I don't look down on others for crying more openly--when others do so, I can admit that it takes strength to let others see you when you're broken. I want to be able to bear my own burdens along with the burdens of everyone around me without help; I will tell anyone else who tries to do the same that it's not ok, because trying to carry so much simply wears you down to the point that you can't be of any help to anyone.

It's a troubling realization. I want to be a person of integrity, and yet, if I really examine my heart, I find that I'm a hypocrite. I have been much more conscious of the words that come out of my mouth over the past couple of days. I have been forced to admit that over-criticizing myself just makes it ok for other girls to be over-critical of themselves.

So, I have a goal for the next week (and hopefully beyond). Working on all of those double standards at once is an overwhelming thought, so I'm going to start small. No more making negative comments about myself, aside from healthy, productive criticism. That's just not the sort of person I want to be.

I have a feeling it's going to be an interesting week.