Insecurities and Such

Yeah, it's a fact. On occasion, I'm a very insecure person.

Oh, I hide it well. Most of the time I can come across as an overly verbose, sarcastic, life of the party know it all. The kind of gal that you love or you hate.... or you kinda like initially but then I really grow to annoy you.

Lately I've been spending a fair amount of time in self examination (because the unexamined life is not worth living) and attempting, once and for all, to get to the root of my problem. Unfortunately, somewhere along the line I was distracted by my actual roots (almost entirely gray now), which led me to be distracted by my crow's feet, which made me think I'm getting old and the pretty is fading exponentially.... so on and so on and so on.

So, self examination didn't work.

It occurred to me that maybe if I dug out some old photos and videos, saw myself on film and watched myself on camera, I might be able to see a glimmer of what those in my life who love me glimpse on occasion.

WARNING: DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME.

It doesn't work. Unless you are Angelina Jolie, you will look at the video and the pictures and it will suddenly occur to you that you are not half as hot as you think you are. What is it David Bowie said? "I'm much too fast to take that test". I don't know how Britney Spears doesn't watch herself in videos and laugh hysterically. After seeing myself in old home movies I was very thankful that no one has filmed me when I'm vacumming the house in my underwear, lip synching "Hit Me Baby One More Time". Shudder. Extreme shudder.

Now I've discovered that the more I think about my insecurities, the more insecure I become. I worry about saying the wrong thing, laughing too loudly, coming across as bitchy and mouthy, the ever expanding size of my ass.... you name it, I'm getting all obsessive compulsive about it.

At some point in all of this lightning struck me. And it jolted me into the reality of my world.

My kids love me. In fact, if you ask my kids, they'll tell you they've got the coolest mom in the world. And they'll tell you this even after I've grounded them, or taken away whatever electronic device I've pried from their cold, x-box curled fingers. I'm not the coolest mom in the world, but if they think so I am more than willing to go with it.

My friends love me. They will call me and ask me for advice. They will invite me out for drinks. They laugh whole heartedly at my lame ass one liners. they ask me to cook asparagus at their dinner parties because they like my asparagus. They introduce me to their significant others. My friends think I'm A-OK.

My husband loves me. He loves that I can smack him down when he deserves it. He loves that I give him a run for his money when we play Name That Tune. He loves that we do the Saturday crossword together and I always have the pop culture answers. He loves my cooking.

My kids, my friends, my family.... not a one of them has ever said to me "Kikki, you're a great gal but you should really do something about that orange peel that's showing up on your thighs".

Is it possible, then, that all of my insecurties are for naught? Is it possible that my obsession with the size of my thighs, the lines on my face, the cut of my clothes is nothing more than a big waste of time and nothing more than my own way of slapping myself down?

Hmmmm.... something to ponder.

I still don't have the answer to this question. And I still feel insecure from time to time. But I am putting the question out there in the hopes that if you read this, you'll think about it yourself for a while. And maybe the next time you are putting yourself down for something, you'll be struck by lightning and take a moment to lift yourself up.

And realize that you are loved.