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Showing posts with label confidence. Show all posts
Showing posts with label confidence. Show all posts

Tuesday, 18 September 2012

40. Mean girls


As I write this, my blood is absolutely boiling because one of the mothers at school has been talking about me.  Apparently I am a real 'party animal' and am always in bars and nightclubs! This ‘juicy newsflash' reached my ears when her ten-year-old shared the ‘gossip’ with a classmate, who in-turn alerted my heart-on-the-sleeve-sensitive-Tia.  After comforting a distraught Tia who was crushed from what she saw as a vilification of her mom, we talked about the unfortunate reality of certain types in the world.  Then, I rang the source.  Of course she expressed shock and denied liability, oscillating between laying the blame on her child, and insisting she had never EVER spoken about me to anyone in her life! Except, this was not an isolated incident because two separate sources had already blown the whistle on her and both times, I was puzzled because this girl didn’t know me beyond the rudimentary greetings we had exchanged at school!  Was I tempted to call her out on it.  Yes.  Could I be bothered?  No.  Frankly, I am allergic to drama.  I rang her to show Tia the importance of standing up to bullies. BLEH!

Through the years, I’ve had so many encounters with all sorts of bitchy varieties.  Why oh why do I attract them?  Now THAT’S a VERY good question!  Matt says I am an easy target.  A girlfriend said it was probably because I am too ‘open’ and friendly.  Anyhow, whatever the reason, I find it quite maddening!

From the girl in Hong Kong (AND the one in London!) who each wormed their way into my inner circle, only to distort and falsify conversations in order to sabotage my friendships with other people; to the acquaintance who approached me one day just to share her opinion of how stupid I looked with pigtails.  Did I mention Ms ‘charming’ often wore the most hideous of weaves in garish styles and colours?  Ahh, but I must not stoop to her level because two ‘wrongs’ don’t make a ‘right’ and being candid does not give you the license to be unkind.  Although, I AM tempted to walk around with a sign that reads: Haters, take your drama somewhere else!  SIGH.

As a mother, it especially pains me to see any child on the receiving end of spiteful behaviour -- and its even worse when it is your child being bullied.  My gut still turns itself inside-out when I recall how a handful of girls at school made Faith’s life miserable for a few years.  From excluding her to name calling, to actual physical abuse.  We had endless discussions about how to deal with the bullies.  Crucially, we also talked about how their behaviour was more likely a manifestation of their insecurities and possibly stuff they were going through at home as opposed to a reflection of who she was.  To her credit, Faith found the confidence to celebrate her individuality, steered away from the mean girls and found people who didn’t make her feel bad about herself.

Getting back to the original incident that kicked off this rant, the next morning at breakfast, Tia had a few questions. She wanted to know why I didn’t tell the woman I knew about all the other things she had said about me.  I replied there was nothing to gain from revealing the true extent of my knowledge.  She then asked, “What are you going to do the next time you see her?”  My response was no doubt long-winded but I expressed that while it wasn’t a big deal I was not on this woman’s ‘BFF’ list, and that her opinion of me was HER problem, not mine; I wasn’t going to let someone else’s maliciousness make me feel bad about myself or stop me from being friendly.  I then finished our conversation with an old Eleanor Roosevelt quote: 

“No one can make you feel inferior without your consent”

That made my little girl break into a big smile as she skipped off to get ready for school. 


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Friday, 16 March 2012

7. The C-word

Everyone wants it.  Magazines and books keep sharing secrets of how to get it.  Companies tout their wares claiming you will get it if you bought what they have to sell.  Many people walk and talk as if they have it.  Confidence. 

Recently, a well-meaning friend asked why despite having everything going for me, my ‘beauty’, “great friends, wonderful hubby, fab kids” I lacked “a lot of confidence”, pointing out that most women would kill to be in my shoes.

Sigh.  I have a complicated relationship with “confidence”.  On occasions when I have received my quota of Zzzzzz’s, had my work-out, and feel very organised, I wear confidence like a slinky second skin.  On those OTHER days, however, that part of my personality fails to make an appearance like a missing guest-of-honor at his own surprise party.  When my GF (and no, it does not stand for Girl Friday but girlfriend) sent me the concerned note about the missing quality in my otherwise sparkling personality, I must confess I started crying. 

Am I so transparent that she saw through my insecurities through a few pieces of prose I had invited her to critique?  How can that be?  I had not written about the boy who used to punch me in the stomach and face if I did not allow him to spit in my mouth -- of how I would feel so stupid (for being a coward) and dirty afterwards.  Neither did I write about the derogatory profanity that served as a cane to whip and belittle me -- continuing until I finally left the family home for good.  Of birthdays that went uncelebrated with no cakes, presents nor parties.  Or the humilation I felt one Christmas, as eyes stinging with uncried tears, I unwrapped my lone present - a packet of Twisties - whilst my siblings cried out excited shouts of joy at their gifts.  “Fat, ugly and stupid” were corrosive taunts fed to me on a daily drip.

I was the girl who never spoke up because nobody bothered to hear me.  Never protected myself against the abuse hurled at me from all sides because it would only get worse if I did.  I was the girl who had nobody to turn to and there was not one person there for me.  Better to just curl up in a ball and say nothing.  Why?  Because I had begun to believe I was worthless.

Okay, enough of the oh-my-so-tragic-childhood!  Just give me a moment whilst I put away my violin – truth be told, at the end of the day, yes it was a lousy childhood but there are millions who had it considerably worse than me.  But yes, my GF is correct.  If you looked up “confidence” in the dictionary, you would never see a picture of me beaming back at you.

Yes, I can do certain things with confidence.  Walk into a room full of strangers and strike up a conversation.  Get my daughters to giggle at how silly their mom is.  Convince Matt that I am always right, even when I’m wrong (sorry Matt!).  Top up your glass and make sure you don’t leave our home hungry.  Recite the alphabet from a to z.  AND, whenever I put on a pair of heels, with those magic extra few inches -- I become the epitome of  Miss Confidence!   Must be the fresh air up there!

My self-assurance does however teeter dangerously on the edge of hysterical confusion at other times.  My mothering skills.  If I am interesting enough to myself and others.  Do I set a good example for my children with my choices and actions?  Am I fulfilling my destiny? Am I making the right decisions.  The catalog is painfully long so I won’t bore you any further with it!

I know I have much to work on with so many chips on my not-so-broad shoulders and my thin skin needs toughening up.  But its okay.  It keeps me busy (and out of trouble!).   Taking baby steps, one at a time, I know I will have relapses now and again but will try to show myself  kindness and be patient with myself. 

They say Rome wasn’t built in a day; so let’s just agree I’m a work-in-progress.  Meanwhile, I will just have to find a way to keep my heels on without getting a permanent backache!!

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