Life isn’t one long measuring stick of set mile markers we are supposed to reach, yet I am always finding myself being so harsh on myself mentally for not living up to certain expectations. This is something I really used to struggle with when it came to Jiu Jitsu; watching other people receive stripe or belt promotions in quicker increments of trading sessions or grasping concepts at a faster pace than I was able to understand and execute. It took me quite some time before I became comfortable in partaking on a martial arts journey that was entirely my own, letting my own set of skills and accomplishments speak for themselves without worrying about what other people were doing and the accolades going on around me. So how come I can’t apply this same concept of thinking to my daily life? Especially because no one besides myself is meticulously scrutinizing every choice, decision, and avenue that I take. It no longer bothers me or gets to me when other people excel or get promoted at Jiu Jitsu, but lately I’ve found myself feeling like I don’t measure up in my actual everyday life. I’m sure in this day and age where the era of social media is rampant upon us, it makes it harder to not be overwhelmed by such things when they are constantly in your face, but especially because I’ve gone about life unconventionally, I have been feeling a bit unworthy and continuously questioning whether I measure up to those around me.
Growing up, I always knew without a single doubt in my mind that I never wanted kids, and while that has never changed or wavered, I always wonder if my parental input is less valid because a human being was never ejected forth from my loins. I will never be the biological barer of a crotch goblin, but this does not mean I am incapable of any sort of maternal affection for the children in my life. While I will never try to take the role of a mother, I will still be an additional person to love on them, dote on them, care for them, worry for them, take care of them, listen to them, and be there for them and my thoughts and feelings are just as valid. While I may not have been there from the beginning, I will be there until the end, and there is no greater promise of love I can make other than that. So yes, while it is true that I will never fully comprehend the arduous process of labor, the pains of childbirth, the joyous occasions of witnessing every first, this does not invalidate my emotions as a real person who will give my whole heart to these people knowing I will always be a tier just below familial and biological love in their eyes, after all, I was technically a stranger over 3 years ago. I will bare much of the heartache that comes with growing adolescents with minimal repercussions of gleeful gratification and I have accepted this and made peace with it. It is something I have had to learn to be okay with or else be overcome with a hollowed misery. It may have taken some time, but I must remember that no one asked for this or envisioned this scenario for their future, and by me doing the best I can to be a loving and compassionate and responsible individual it will always be enough. I just wish I could take my own advice when it comes down to these situations and dwell on them less.
Now, marriage on the other hand always terrified me. I guess I had always imagined myself as the wolf; more omega than alpha and verily more than capable to thrive and flourish on her own. I saw myself as someone who couldn’t be tamed or domesticated and was more than happy to roam wild and free. And golly gee, would you look at that, this wolf is now a connoisseur at laundry, has organized everything in her house from spices, to clothes, to cleaning products, and has only asked for kitchen appliances for the holidays. And I think what’s really been grating on me, is seeing other couples become betrothed. I don’t know why this bothers me so much, as I have never been one to require a piece of paper as proof of unrequited love, but I think it has something to do with the amount of time put in other relationships versus my 3 years of bliss or the air of importance that seems to come with wedded matrimony. I am so in love, and so well cared for, and never required silly proof otherwise. But I heard some comments recently that didn’t outright say it but had heavily implied that something must be wrong to not be legally bound after all this time when said person was together for a fraction of that amount and was now married. If something tragic were to ever happen, would my life disintegrate before my very eyes? And perhaps they are better than me or more important to have found themselves a pedestal above me while I’m clawing at breadcrumbs, who knows. I’m perfectly content and happy, but the outside comments and ridicule did have me feeling some type of way and now I keep second guessing my worth. Not because of anything my partner has done or said, but because of flippant remarks made by others. Why do we let other people’s opinions get under our skin? Am I significantly less worthy because a man didn’t deem me marriage material? It’s all a bunch of phooey and I don’t want to be not good enough.
I hate feeling inferior, and I know that’s all on me. Watching some of these girls I straight up mollywhopped turning pro after no real challenge at amateur and thinking they are now better than me. But is that really what they think or is that just my dumb mind playing tricks on me? Then I sit back and watch them lose a pro debut. And I don’t know if that’s supposed to make me feel better or what, but if anything I just feel disgusted with myself for being so consumed by the green-eyed monster. Can I really not be happy for others because I am seething with jealousy? That’s gross and I am not one to utilize such disgusting behavior. I know in the long run this will all make me better and make for a much more fruitful career, but I don’t like taking damage for free, in life or in the cage. Life may not be the best at fighting, but this motherfucker sure got hands and I won’t let her or anyone else put me down in 2020. I always want to be the supportive person in everyone’s corner cheering them on, but this envy I’m feeling at always being just one step shy of having my moment in the sun is simply no bueno. Not feeling good enough is such a shitty feeling, and I am probably, nay, most definitely, making it worse in my head. My mind can be a scary place and I hate that it keeps telling me how truly mediocre I am. As an ambitious individual with lofty aspirations, this is probably my greatest fear. I want to accomplish great things and lately I’ve just been hit in the face with all the things I won’t ever do or have done and the things in which I lack.
I was lying in bed, tears in my eyes, when my partner had to literally give me a pep talk. I was vulnerable, one of my many emotions on display, and as naked as a newborn. He’s so good at speeches and validating my feelings while simultaneously gently conveying how insane the scenarios I invent in my head are. Truth is, no one is probably saying those horrible things about me and it is my own self doubts and fears playing tricks on me. I know he loves me so why do I care what others may think about our situation. Who the eff cares if someone is together for financial reasons or living situations or simply out of loneliness instead of love. It has zero impact on my life. And why would I care if yoga moms shun me for not ejecting a cranium through my vagina. Sorry I didn’t procreate a spawn for little Brynnleigh (what a vomit inducing name) to play with at daycare. And why would I care if other fighters take the next step when I know my coaches are exceptionally well skilled at their jobs and know all the right moves to make for my career. Life is freaking hard and the ups and downs it plays on our emotions definitely don’t make it any easier. They say no one can make you feel better without your consent, so I will immediately cease consenting to my own damn self. I’m tired of downplaying myself and feeling inferior. I need to stop relying on these spirited pep talks from my partner and start speaking positively to myself. Although, I must say I thoroughly enjoy how the bedroom pep talks end, but I have been forbidden from describing the details of those situations as I am not E.L. James.
