It has been a long time since I’ve last written a real updated post about my boring life – almost 8 months, to be exact. As always tends to happen in large amounts of time, a lot has changed in my life. And I’ve refrained from blogging because let’s be honest…how many people actually read this (0-2 persons)and how many people who read this actually like it (0-1 persons)? But at the end of the day I have to come back to the real reason I have always written: because it makes me happy. So here I am on the old half broken (BUT STILL HANGING ON, MIND YOU), laptop.
I started a new, big girl job almost 8 months ago now. And it has not been ideal or fun. I hear that first jobs can often go this route, but boy is it tough actually living through the ordeal. I will say that I have hated it 90% of the time. However, it’s not that part that makes it miserable; I’ve had jobs that I’ve disliked, found boring or aggravating or tiring before. I can deal with that. Jobs aren’t always fun or lovable. It’s the way I still feel about myself after leaving there. I spent 9-10 hours a day there feeling like crap but when I leave I can still feel the self-doubt hanging on my scrubs along with all that cat hair and dog drool.
I’ve tried to learn a lot about the human brain and self esteem in the past 8 months, but I’d be lying if I said I’ve learned all the lessons I’m about to try to articulate.
What makes you who you are? I finally settled into the realization a few months ago that I will never feel liked or appreciated at this job. The question then became are they right about me, that I am not good at my job and am not really worth getting to know, or is my identity not found in what others think about me? This has been a constant struggle for me. I am not used to working with snobby people (I guess I’ve just been very fortunate until now) and I also have skin so thin that it would rip if you just brushed against me. Thick skin is not one of my strong points. Which is why I leave work every day thinking I have zero strong points. Is that true? What dictates my feelings? The opinions of those who hardly know me and my coworker’s snobby silence? Or something inside of me that other people can’t touch.
I’m not one to quote poppy songs that people like just because they’re on the radio, but there’s this beautiful line by Colbie Caillat that says, “Wait a second, why should you care what they think of you? When you’re all alone, do you like you?” Well, me liking me is a whole other saga, but when this song comes on at work I just want to turn up the radio until all of their ears bleed.
Why do we let other’s opinions of us make or break our day? Why are we not comfortable in our own skin? This is something I guess I always wrestled with, but haven’t truly realized until the past year. I am so uncomfortable in my own skin just because of my own negative self-esteem. Having to be at work 45+ hours a week with people who make me feel even more uncomfortable feels like living hell until I make myself stop and say why am I doing this to myself? Why do I let their silence ring in my ears; why am I trying so hard?
I could write one million posts about feeling comfortable in your own skin because I have just stumbled upon this topic at age 22 and feel like I could write forever. (Isn’t that the greatest feeling for those of us who love writing?) But all my positive feelings go out the door on Monday morning when I want to shrivel up in a ball and give into thinking that there’s something wrong with me. What are you going to fight for, brain? This is a very important question because before you know it, 8 months have passed and you realize you’ve spent it being miserable and you can’t even blame that on grumpy coworkers because you, not anyone else, are in charge of your feelings. Why give into them?