How do they do it? They make it look so effortless, so seamless, and so perfectible.
I live in a black and white world, greys and colourless views, but I know very few things are black and white in reality. Why then do I stare and stare at other people and buy into the idea that their lives are the essence of perfect?
They make it seem so effortless and I feel the effort in everything I do, every day.
I feel like if I am not better, if I can’t figure out how to be better than I currently am that I will lose the attention of anyone at all. I fear losing people, but I try to push back my feelings of jealousy and envy at all they have, or all I perceive them to have.
I know envy is a sin. I know it is frowned upon. It certainly isn’t attractive, by any stretch of the imagination.
There’s the woman with the perfect sense of style, perfectly put-together outfits, making being a woman appear so effortless. She has the perfect life, with the best friendships, the most wonderful career, and the love of a partner who is her equal and her world. Effortless.
I never had anything. I never will. Nothing is effortless for me or ever will be.
There it is…all the negativity I usually keep pent up inside, but letting it out won’t help. Stop it anyway, I tell myself, over and over again.
The negative talk started young, when I felt I was fighting so hard for all I could get my hands on – everything it seemed everyone else already had and might currently be taking for granted. I couldn’t quite live up to the image I saw of other girls. I could see through a very narrow field of vision, tunnel vision, as my visual ability allowed, but this didn’t let me see the truth as it actually stood.
What reality was I seeing when it came to others and then how did I fit into the picture?
How brutally would I end up disappointing them all, when they saw how bad I was failing? How could I allow anyone to see this? Better that I hide away from them all, quick before I was revealed and I could not hide one second more.
Truth is is nobody has it all figured out, at all times. No one. How can I get that through my thick skull?
Linda explains how in life, with age, some things become harder and others aren’t so bad:
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