In her song, Dear Insecurity, Brandi Carlile sings “Dear insecurity, ah we meet again, don’t try to fight with me, you’re not really my friend, you take up half this bed, living rent free in my head, ah insecurity.”
There is research that shows how resiliency is a sign of self-worth. For example, if you believe you’re worthy of an opportunity, if you can pick yourself up when things aren’t going well, or if you can rebuild after something painful, these are all signs of resiliency. It is an inner resource that helps us move past our limiting thoughts and insecurities. People who are resilient tend to spend less time entertaining their insecurities, which provides immense support to their emotional wellness.
Yet, when I’ve fallen into the darkness of myself, I feel like my resilience lives on another planet and it would take a rocket ship to get there. When my insecurities start raging against my self-worth, they are bold and mean. My insecurities want to cause me harm, they want to show me how I’m worthless. When they’re running the show, they’re pretty convincing and they latch onto my many weaknesses.
They want me to believe I’m unworthy of accomplishing the things that I’m most anxious to make happen. Insecurity wants me to believe I’m not fit enough, accomplished enough, too old, too fat. It is the mean girl that lives in my head, trying to convince me I’m not enough, in all ways.
When something triggers me into deep pain, my insecurities are waiting and ready to pounce. No one has actually spoken to me with as much harshness and ridicule as my own voice.
The ease in which I can tear myself down is shocking. It’s hard to look in the mirror and be seen by others when I’m speaking to myself like this. I’m working on receiving my insecurities with warmth and with a discerning ear. I’m learning to talk back to them, sassy in my responses and brave enough to stand up to the raging negativity.
We are all born worthy to love, see the good in others, shine light, and share laughter. Along the way we’re taught that we need to prove our value, whether it’s in school, family, relationships, or work. We learn this through those who are lost in their own insecurities.
It’s unfortunate but true that those in pain and who’ve been brainwashed into thinking this is a true thing, spill that experience out onto others.
We’re all a part of this in that we’ve all been taught to be self-conscious, to want less, to believe we’re less capable, and to tear down others who are brave enough to go for what they want.
But by uncovering our softness, kindness, and gentle voice, the parts of ourselves that are tempted by the voice of insecurity would become awake and alive and understand that we need nothing. That who we are, exactly how we are, is enough. We can want for more, we can choose differently in any given moment, but listening to the voices that want to pull you down is like hanging out in a loud dance club and wondering why your ears hurt. All we need to do is go outside, take a deep breath, and remember we are born worthy of love. We’re not born to have everything we want out of life, we’re born to connect to the sweetness which is inherent in each and everyone of us.
As I write this, I’ve been in a particularly hard time, and I’m working hard to remember that I have to take care of myself so my critical self-talk doesn’t become my belief system.
I can access my self-worth in moments of slowing down, remembering to breathe, eating well, getting outside, and talking to friends who want to listen and care enough to understand. By admitting how dark it’s been in my own mind and by maintaining these practices and choices of how I’m showing up, slowly I’m remembering that I’m kinder than my insecurities would have me believe.
Just remember that we all have insecurities. Tend to them in the same way that you would speak to a child: softly and gently. Losing patience and being mean never works when we speak to someone else, so why would it work on ourselves??
Love, Noelle