You have no idea.
I have long accepted that external validation is more important to me than I would ever admit out loud. Partially because I see it as a completely understandable human condition, though also a regrettably personal albatross of my own. But, since I apparently have decided I'm some sort of ragged role model for humanity, and so therefore have learned to fake a certain laissez-faire attitude about other people's attitudes, I am very good at pretending I have no need for it. While all along, I'm hoping to put into play that fake it until you make it axiom. I fall short. So so many times. And while I know that it's OKAY that I need for people to tell me they like me, I'm beautiful, clever, funny, smart, I'm their fav-o-rite person on the goddamned universe, it still makes me feel full of FAIL. Not to mention the neediness that accompanies the wondering.
And no, I'm not posting this so all five you you (wonderful wonderful yous) will leave me comments repeating "But I LOVE you, D!!!" That's not what this is about. I know who loves me. I know I'm mildly entertaining at times. I know I'm intelligent and curious and passionate and thoughtful, and that - on a good day - I am able to project all those wonderful qualities outward into the world. What shakes me to the core is this rock-hard belief I have that I have to impress everyone all the time.
Take my current situation: I post a story. It is well received. I am pleased about that. Very, ridiculously, inordinately pleased about that. I love every single person who took the time to comment and tell me they enjoyed my story. I believe they enjoyed my story. I therefore calm down a bit from my previous post and accept that my initial observation of my story (that it's indeed pretty good) was correct. Done.
Except. There is this one person on lj. There is always one person. It doesn't matter where I am. Do you have that person? That one person who you do not even know and yet who somehow holds your self-esteem in the palms of invisible hands? That one person who writes beautiful stories, or funny blogs, or insightful book reviews, or whatever. Somehow you have, without even realizing it, put this person on a pedestal. I have been on someone's pedestal, and I hated it there. The view sucks, the seat is uncomfortable, and the fall is hard. So I don't make it a point to let this person know about my personal pedestal. This person has no need of my pedestal. This person has a life, and flaws, and foibles, and stuff, and doesn't even know me. But I look up and there this person is, waving down and I wave back, wagging my tail that I'm even noticed.
So how do I react when this person lets me know my story has been printed for reading (because it is a long story to read off a computer screen)? I'm sorry, I have my hand by my ear, but I can't quite hear all of you laughing at how I'm pissing myself with excitement. Yes, maybe that's how each and every one of you would react as well. Perhaps you won't want to admit it, but I like admitting my failings, not because I want everyone to look down at me, but because I believe I'm just expressing something we all feel sometimes. And by publicly admitting it, I am making it okay for all of you to admit it as well, even if it's just to yourselves. See? Fucking role model, me. Besides, that reaction, the wagging, pissing, squealy-noised joy? Nothing compared to the misery that is crashing down on me as we speak. Because it's been three days. And this person - my pedestal? Not one peep about my story. Which, of course, leads me to assume it was not well received.
There are so so many things I could say right now. Some of them would be placating. Some disturbing. Some full of invective. But none would fully describe the complexity that is my brain processing how it feels about not hearing what I so desperately wanted to hear, even though so many have already said the same thing. And I am ashamed. I do feel gratitude for what I have already been given: real friends - some of whom actually know me - reminding me I am supported, strangers taking the time to appreciate how much work I put into something I care about, family teaching me what unconditional love means. But right now that gratitude is a distant thing.
I will remember it in time. But first I will retreat, pretend it doesn't matter what other people think, hope one day I will believe that, and lick my self-indulgent wounds. Be back soon.
Europa Missions
3 days ago
6 comments:
Oh my god...we are the same person...lol. I always have to force myself (with little success) to not freak out when a "regular" doesn't review something i post. My mind instantly goes to: what did I do? or is it suddenly not good? I just have to step back and be like, Lindsay, you are being a crazy person. It probably has nothing to do with me. It's very easy to rationalize with yourself, but not so easy to make yourself completely believe the rationale.
I am actually feeling a little better about the whole thing. It helped when I was able to just spew everything out to the Husband. And he was all, "I understand completely." And I was all, "Yeah, because it's normal; everybody does it; I'm just the freak who admits it out loud."
And then I felt better because I realized we all do it, I'm not some pathetic loser. And then I realized I had felt worse about how I was feeling than what was causing the feeling. And then I got over it.
Thank you for letting me know I'm not alone in this. It does help to have someone just say, "I understand completely. I do it too."
Thank you.
LOL I don't freak out when someone doesn't review right away any more because I've gone through the, hmmm, did so and so not like it? Is that why they're not saying anything? But then maybe like several months later, they review, say they loved it but hadn't gotten around to reading it or something.
I think the reason I love fan fiction is they give you a reader count so even if you don't get comments, you can see how many people read it and how many read it all the way through, etc. It kind of helps to see thousands of hits. Sure it doesn't tell me if they liked it or not but when the end chapters start getting up there, I get all happy. LOL That means people read through to the last chapter.
Yeah, it is an ego booster. :)
MW - that's cool you can see that. I don't know if lj has that function, though I get the same thing from google analytics for this blog. I can see that more people read my posts than comment on them, which is cool. But it also makes me curious as to who is visiting and what they find here they like.
I think, once the initial trepidation that hit after posting the story had passed (receiving feedback helped, I will admit), I was okay with it all. My self-pity today rested more on how much more power I had given to this one person's opinion, than on the general consensus, or even my own confidence in what I had written. I mean, taking it another way, she was the only person I know who read it who apparently didn't like it. So maybe instead of wondering what is wrong with me, I should wonder what her problem is. LOL
Instead, I rationalize and remember that I don't like everything I read, even stuff I've seen recommended elsewhere. And I'm already working on another story (much shorter, thank God!), so my mind is already leaning elsewhere.
Thanks for letting me know I'm not alone.
This is kind of a pathetic response... but since I don't know you and haven't read your fanfiction... I would rather read your ramblings on everything and nothing because it's always more intelligent and insightful than 95% of the other crap in this world. I may be a pop culturalist at heart, but really, it's because I've given up on everyone else aiming for higher intelligence. It seems people are content in their mediocrity, and the only way it doesn't bother me is if I laugh at it and label it "pop culture." But you? I don't need to read your fanfiction to know that it was amazing. And not in a pedestal-amazing way, but in a I'm-better-than-you-so-suck-it kind of way.
That doesn't change or devalue your less-than-happy feelings, but as you said, everyone feels that way at one time or another. And sometimes it has nothing to do with someone else but it's a paranoid about your own failings. At some point you just have to shrug and say, "Eh, suck it."
Because I don't know, you know I'm telling the truth. What would I care about buttering you up? You could be a puppy killer for all I know! But I would still come back and read your posts because I find them intelligent and delightful.
My Rosebud (is a sled!) -
I am now going to rename my livejournal: Suck It! and everyone will think it's about vampires, or blow jobs, but I and I alone will know the truth.
No, I won't. But I will remember to whisper that to myself sometimes when I'm letting one person's opinion take credence over everyone else's.
Though is it hypocritical of me to wiggle over you thinking so highly of me while at the same time berating myself because I want someone else to think highly of me? I don't know. That's what makes humans so fucking fascinating. We are contradictory messes. We are beautiful.
No. I do not kill puppies. Cockroaches, ants, and there was that awful frog incident, but I was ashamed of that. Deeply, deeply ashamed.
Post a Comment