High self-esteem has never been a given for me. Even having mediocre self-esteem was not guarenteed. How about you?
The untold story Is that many people are faking their confidence. You can just sense some people’s desperation and neediness more than others.
Lifting my self-esteem has been a lifelong struggle for me.
Initially, when we are littles, we have a pretty healthy idea of our worth. And then, over time, the idea of our worth is challenged and then stolen from us.
Criticized, unsupported, and unmirrored for my authentic self, I lost myself in my life’s shuffle.
But I never lost sight of the fact that I deserved to love myself. I just had no idea how to find my way back to my little self’s esteem.
Lack of self-esteem looks like dismissing any ideas or suggestions that you are great or even good at anything. That you have no worth or value except for in the things that you do or what you perceive yourself to look like.
And you’ll never be able to do enough to earn that worth.
It looks like self-sabotage, valuing others before yourself, and never thinking you are valuable to the world.
Fear and anxiety often have a heavy hand in keeping you pinned to this spot. Disallowing any information into your thoughts that might alleviate you of your perpetual understanding and shift of your None-ness.
There was one powerful way I found to overcome this dreadful feeling of low self-worth. I connected with others. Ultimately, it was my slow formed connection with mostly women online and in real life that began to erode my thoughts of unworthiness. I finally had mirrors.
As we got to know each other, shared stories, wrote letters, made art for one another, and witnessed one another, I began to see and adopt the image of myself from who they valued me to be.
And this “Peerspective” is some powerful magical stuff. Seeing yourself anew through the generous sight of others is one of the factors that raised me up from my low self-esteem. Have you experienced this as well. Please leave you any thoughts you might have.
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I have to say, Shalagh, that your feet are beautiful, and I am delighted to see some pretty feet!
Mine are not. I used to wear a beautifully dark almost purple polish on my toenails until I dropped a heavy folded up table on my foot and lost my big toe’s toenail and then broke a toe or two or three and now nothing lines up right. I should be wearing steel toed boots to protect them, I guess, but I still insist that my toes need their freedom and I go barefoot as often as is possible. What a blessing they are to continue taking me wherever and however I choose to that distance.
I am so grateful for our freedoms when our Iranian sisters are fighting to the death for theirs.
I thank you Lura Lee. What you can’t see is the blob that is my little toenail, hereditary non nail. I guess we all have our “things”. I think you dedication to your feet being grounded is marvelous. And the injuries are unfortunate but tell me you’re a Doer like me. I admit that there are liberties that I take for granted in my life. Destined to get my toes redone with my daughter on Friday. Because that is not something I ever did with my Mom.
Thank you for being here!