I’m pretty emotionally charged lately, as well as being a bit overwhelmed. I feel like I’m learning so much about being a father and a husband. I’m learning about starting new companies. I almost bought a house that was really fantastic, but we walked away because we did some big-boy research and found out we might be pushed into a corner if certain events take place in a few years in the surrounding area. I’m traveling and learning about other cultures, which you can’t help but compare to your own. And I’ve had two very close relatives come face-to-face with cancer. One of them sadly didn’t win the fight. The other is in the middle of it.
And maybe one of the most personally significant things, is that I’ve been writing a LOT lately, which has had some very nice side effects. Mostly, allowing me to capture a lot of this emotion on paper so it’s not just piled up inside of me causing fear and anxiety.
And through all of this, this jumble of awesome and sad string that my life is, I’m learning more about myself than I ever thought I could learn. I mean, I live with me 100% of the time, who knew I was so unaware of so many things pertaining to… you know, ME?
One of the things I’ve become really hyper-aware of is my own insecurity, especially around how god-awfully bad I want people to think I’m cool, funny, interesting, smart. And how there’s this massive section of my brain that doesn’t just want those things. It needs more. I realized that a huge part of me really needs someone to envy me. I *need* people to wish they were me in order for me to feel good about myself. Even if I don’t know who they are or that they envy me, I want it. If you’re reading this. I want you to envy me.
And fuck! That’s really kind of disgusting. What an absolutely terrible life motivator.
So, I’m doing what we all do when we realize there’s something wrong with us, I’m blaming Junior High. It’s all because Kari told a group of friends she wouldn’t touch me with a 10-foot pole. Ok, it’s not 100% Kari’s fault. But I do remember it, and a 100 other little moments when I certainly wasn’t the envied kid.
But this whole thing has caused me to take a look at how I portray myself. To my friends, to my family. How I post on social media. Yesterday I took an amazing photo of myself with Roman. Actually, I took a dozen photos, and found one where he was smiling really happily and I didn’t look like I was inflicted with a face-paralyzing illness. I was really tempted to post this to Instagram. But before I could get back to my wifi, Roman and I were playing and he was throwing sand in my face and I couldn’t explain to him this was wrong and I got frustrated and then I felt like “Shit! I can’t post this and pretend like my life is fucking perfect. I’ve got sand in my eyes and Roman is laughing and I have no idea how to fix that. To post to Instagram would be a lie… or at least, a highly edited feed of envy fodder.”
It’s made me think a lot about being honest. And I’ve been writing about this a lot in my diary of sorts. So, I decided to publish some things on my personal website. Not because I want you to Like it on Facebook, but because I want to stop hiding behind a social feed of curated one-liners and carefully selected and/or cropped photos that suggest my life is perfect (or at least, consistent with whatever narrative I am telling at the moment). And I’m looking at my insecurity straight on, and I’m fighting it with honesty. This is me. I’ve got some cool shit I can brag about, and I’ve got some really weird shit that is kind of messed up.
So… stick around if you’d like. I am going to be posting some more.
(here are some photos from the moment. I ended up deleting the really crappy ones at the time, so I don’t have those to show you. But I’ll try and keep the next really shitty ones of me for my next post. 🙂
Note: This post was actually written on April 7th, and I was a sissy and didn’t post it until now.