There is no test
Nov. 4th, 2014 22:10![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
torquill[formerly filtered to c]
I've had the funhouse effect lately with the concept of self-worth: everywhere I turn, I'm staring it in the face. I've been thinking about it a lot.
I built my own self-esteem as a teenager, when I realized that my own mind was echoing all the junk the other kids threw at me: strange, dorky, undesirable, ugly. I got angry, and decided that I was damned if I was going to agree with them... so I started telling myself I was worth something. I started listing my own achievements and attributes, because nobody else was. And I ended up pretty confident about myself, especially after a stint in Impact, and being assured I really was was "good enough" this spring. I could shrug off most attacks on my character, and I felt strong enough to face challenges and opportunities.
In recent days I've gotten to look at that self-built confidence from a different angle, and it's starting to resemble a movie set. Get behind the good facade and you get to see all the scrap lumber and bodge jobs. My self-esteem, my own picture of myself and my positive attributes, is based on what I believed to be the criteria by which we judge people's value. From an early age, I was taught to look at what someone can contribute in determining how much they're worth. Even intangible things counted, like brightening others' day, but the way one counted value was to gather up all those named assets into a big pile and see how big it was.
That was how I felt I would be judged, so I piled up all my assets. My skills, and knowledge, and what I had made or helped with. I'm intelligent, I have the knowledge from a couple of hard-science degrees, I educate people, I improve home gardens and orchards, I cook really well, I made a harp. I could point to these things and say, I'm worth something! I contribute! I have something to offer others, so they will accept me! I can defend against attacks on my value as a professional with my +3 Shield of Master's Degree!
That worked right up to the point when someone walked right past my Pile of Assets and said, "but what about what you're worth to me?"
I was gobsmacked. A value was placed on me that far surpassed the total I had come up with, and the difference was so large I couldn't account for it. I hadn't done anything, at least where they were concerned, which would merit that sort of regard, and yet there it was. Just to add to my bewilderment, the Pile of Assets was deemed irrelevant. How could anyone think so highly of me, give me so much affection and attention, when I hadn't earned it? When I hadn't proven that I was skilled/knowledgeable/talented/accomplished enough to deserve it?
I'm still having trouble grasping the idea that my worth comes from something else, and rests in other merits than those I can count and quantify. I suspect I'll be struggling with that one for a while, since it's baked into so many of my evaluations of myself and the world around me. I asked tonight, "If I'm not giving my skills and knowledge to gain approval/worth, what reason do I have to be generous?" Because the main reason I could point to for why I like to be a generous person is that people will approve of my gifts and become closer to me. That point of view has shaped a lot of how I relate to the world, and I'm finding that it has to shift if I'm going to reconcile what I'm experiencing with how I believe things work.
I'm always afraid that the people who like me will discover what I'm really like and realize what a horrible mistake they've made. That's partly related to the fact that I've suppressed or hidden so much of my inner self in an attempt to "pass", which means that (I believe that) almost no one I know has a real idea of what lies below the mask they see. I've shown them my credentials, my cool factor, my useful attributes, and that got me admitted into the clan. I believe, deep down, that if I were to show my raw unedited self to 95% of the people I know, they would draw back, become distant, and probably leave. Because what's down there isn't useful or cool or fun, and the facade I've constructed over it isn't enough to compensate for that.
I feel like I can't be someone's equal unless I can show a Pile of Assets comparable to theirs, which leads to uncomfortable conversations (with other people who have the same idea) where I ride on the edge of their discovering that I'm actually blowing smoke out my ass trying to keep up with their awesomeness so that I can win a place of respect and approval with them... and half the time they're trying to do the same with me. And if I don't feel like I can compete, I just hang back and feel grateful and full of wonder when they are gracious enough to give me some of their attention. I'm less important than they are, in my own estimation. They're the Cool Kids.
I'm afraid that if I misstep, I'll tip the scales that weigh my Pile of Assets and others will decide the balance is not in my favor. At any given point, there is the possibility I will Fail The Test. The longer I've known someone, the more comfortable we've grown with each other, the bigger a screwup it would take -- the heavier the grading curve -- but I can still Fail The Test. When someone suggests that I hurt their feelings, or even just broke one of their household rules by accident, my first reaction is panic that I might have Failed The Test and this is when I'll get thrown out. It makes accepting honest criticism a very stressful process, though I work hard not to turn it into drama.
My assignment is to understand and accept that there is no test.
The reason there is no test is that the people who like me -- who sincerely like and love me -- are not looking at a set of scales. They're not running my every action through a scantron machine. They appreciate me for reasons that are above the little details of how well I cook or their irritation that I put the wrong thing in the dishwasher. And for the ones who really matter, it would take changing the fundamentals of who I am to shake their view of my value.
I'm scared to accept that idea not just because it would take reexamining everything I believe about myself, but because it takes away the comforting illusion of control I get by measuring my Pile of Assets. I can't increase my worth by just acquiring a new skill or another line on my CV. I can't use those items as a save against someone giving me a low grade. My worth becomes something intangible, taking it out of my hands, and I'm too used to it being a tangible thing not to see that as a loss. What am I going to hang onto now?
It means that someone else might value me far above the value I place on myself, making me cry because no one has ever thought I'm worth that much, even me... and I want to believe I could be, yet I'm afraid I'm not.
I'm left sitting here staring at a key in my hand, running the meanings it carries (which were explicitly stated, not implied) through my mind like beads, and feeling all my chains of reasoning falling into the chasm in my mind -- the gulf between demonstrated reality and what I believe. I get only so far before the bottom falls out and I'm left back where I started, with two things which cannot both be true. So I try again, with tears running down my face and a feeling like I've had the wind knocked out of me.
If I can't grasp this, if I can't restructure myself so that everything lines up, and do it fast enough to satisfy the people who presented me with the conundrum, I might Fail The Test. So I keep trying...
because part of the conundrum is that there is no test.
I've had the funhouse effect lately with the concept of self-worth: everywhere I turn, I'm staring it in the face. I've been thinking about it a lot.
I built my own self-esteem as a teenager, when I realized that my own mind was echoing all the junk the other kids threw at me: strange, dorky, undesirable, ugly. I got angry, and decided that I was damned if I was going to agree with them... so I started telling myself I was worth something. I started listing my own achievements and attributes, because nobody else was. And I ended up pretty confident about myself, especially after a stint in Impact, and being assured I really was was "good enough" this spring. I could shrug off most attacks on my character, and I felt strong enough to face challenges and opportunities.
In recent days I've gotten to look at that self-built confidence from a different angle, and it's starting to resemble a movie set. Get behind the good facade and you get to see all the scrap lumber and bodge jobs. My self-esteem, my own picture of myself and my positive attributes, is based on what I believed to be the criteria by which we judge people's value. From an early age, I was taught to look at what someone can contribute in determining how much they're worth. Even intangible things counted, like brightening others' day, but the way one counted value was to gather up all those named assets into a big pile and see how big it was.
That was how I felt I would be judged, so I piled up all my assets. My skills, and knowledge, and what I had made or helped with. I'm intelligent, I have the knowledge from a couple of hard-science degrees, I educate people, I improve home gardens and orchards, I cook really well, I made a harp. I could point to these things and say, I'm worth something! I contribute! I have something to offer others, so they will accept me! I can defend against attacks on my value as a professional with my +3 Shield of Master's Degree!
That worked right up to the point when someone walked right past my Pile of Assets and said, "but what about what you're worth to me?"
I was gobsmacked. A value was placed on me that far surpassed the total I had come up with, and the difference was so large I couldn't account for it. I hadn't done anything, at least where they were concerned, which would merit that sort of regard, and yet there it was. Just to add to my bewilderment, the Pile of Assets was deemed irrelevant. How could anyone think so highly of me, give me so much affection and attention, when I hadn't earned it? When I hadn't proven that I was skilled/knowledgeable/talented/accomplished enough to deserve it?
I'm still having trouble grasping the idea that my worth comes from something else, and rests in other merits than those I can count and quantify. I suspect I'll be struggling with that one for a while, since it's baked into so many of my evaluations of myself and the world around me. I asked tonight, "If I'm not giving my skills and knowledge to gain approval/worth, what reason do I have to be generous?" Because the main reason I could point to for why I like to be a generous person is that people will approve of my gifts and become closer to me. That point of view has shaped a lot of how I relate to the world, and I'm finding that it has to shift if I'm going to reconcile what I'm experiencing with how I believe things work.
I'm always afraid that the people who like me will discover what I'm really like and realize what a horrible mistake they've made. That's partly related to the fact that I've suppressed or hidden so much of my inner self in an attempt to "pass", which means that (I believe that) almost no one I know has a real idea of what lies below the mask they see. I've shown them my credentials, my cool factor, my useful attributes, and that got me admitted into the clan. I believe, deep down, that if I were to show my raw unedited self to 95% of the people I know, they would draw back, become distant, and probably leave. Because what's down there isn't useful or cool or fun, and the facade I've constructed over it isn't enough to compensate for that.
I feel like I can't be someone's equal unless I can show a Pile of Assets comparable to theirs, which leads to uncomfortable conversations (with other people who have the same idea) where I ride on the edge of their discovering that I'm actually blowing smoke out my ass trying to keep up with their awesomeness so that I can win a place of respect and approval with them... and half the time they're trying to do the same with me. And if I don't feel like I can compete, I just hang back and feel grateful and full of wonder when they are gracious enough to give me some of their attention. I'm less important than they are, in my own estimation. They're the Cool Kids.
I'm afraid that if I misstep, I'll tip the scales that weigh my Pile of Assets and others will decide the balance is not in my favor. At any given point, there is the possibility I will Fail The Test. The longer I've known someone, the more comfortable we've grown with each other, the bigger a screwup it would take -- the heavier the grading curve -- but I can still Fail The Test. When someone suggests that I hurt their feelings, or even just broke one of their household rules by accident, my first reaction is panic that I might have Failed The Test and this is when I'll get thrown out. It makes accepting honest criticism a very stressful process, though I work hard not to turn it into drama.
My assignment is to understand and accept that there is no test.
The reason there is no test is that the people who like me -- who sincerely like and love me -- are not looking at a set of scales. They're not running my every action through a scantron machine. They appreciate me for reasons that are above the little details of how well I cook or their irritation that I put the wrong thing in the dishwasher. And for the ones who really matter, it would take changing the fundamentals of who I am to shake their view of my value.
I'm scared to accept that idea not just because it would take reexamining everything I believe about myself, but because it takes away the comforting illusion of control I get by measuring my Pile of Assets. I can't increase my worth by just acquiring a new skill or another line on my CV. I can't use those items as a save against someone giving me a low grade. My worth becomes something intangible, taking it out of my hands, and I'm too used to it being a tangible thing not to see that as a loss. What am I going to hang onto now?
It means that someone else might value me far above the value I place on myself, making me cry because no one has ever thought I'm worth that much, even me... and I want to believe I could be, yet I'm afraid I'm not.
I'm left sitting here staring at a key in my hand, running the meanings it carries (which were explicitly stated, not implied) through my mind like beads, and feeling all my chains of reasoning falling into the chasm in my mind -- the gulf between demonstrated reality and what I believe. I get only so far before the bottom falls out and I'm left back where I started, with two things which cannot both be true. So I try again, with tears running down my face and a feeling like I've had the wind knocked out of me.
If I can't grasp this, if I can't restructure myself so that everything lines up, and do it fast enough to satisfy the people who presented me with the conundrum, I might Fail The Test. So I keep trying...
because part of the conundrum is that there is no test.
About how I feel at the moment
Date: 2014-11-05 08:11 (UTC)