Recently, I was perturbed at work about the way my overzealous supervisor was behaving. It was a legitimate perturbation (perturbance is not a word, it should be) but today, in a larger discussion, it was brought to my attention again that I’m a little bit hard on myself. There are some ways that this affects my perspective on things and I am always working on taking in others’ feedback through my oversensitive filter.
The thing is, I’m very competent at my job. I know that, I feel that, and everyone at works validates that. And so, why is the idea of making a mistake so threatening to my sense of self. Because it is. Logically, I know that I’m not perfect and don’t need to be. My impulse somehow, my tiny inner aggressive instinct, is to believe that it’s all or nothing. I’m the best or the worst. And I think I’m the best more often than not so then I think, yeah, I’m someone with good self esteem. I’m the best at self esteem!
Heh. I actually think I have a good sense of what I’m good at and not so good at. I’m just competing with this emotional, irrational, and insidious other…thing. The trance of unworthiness in mindfulness speak. Sometimes I’m not even aware of it, but it’s there. Enough that a caring and insightful person could tell me that she thinks there’s a part of me that doesn’t believe I’m good enough and be right.
My supervisor was still being a dick.