 Here are a couple of things I know to be true. One, my first reaction to nearly any volatile situation is never the right one. And two, even when I succinctly and directly ask for what I need, there is still a damn good chance I won’t get it.
I wrote a few weeks ago about how I have taken on three new, major clients. There are some wonderful benefits, challenges and frustrations associated with each one. As expected. By and large, though, the frustrations are few, and I can already tell I’m going to rock them all. Eventually. The initial fear I experienced related to two of the three has all but dissipated. Those clients love me, and I’m kicking ass on their projects so far. But No. 3 is a different story. I still have a lot of anxiety about how in the hell I am going to successfully pull off the mission I’ve chosen to accept without royally fucking up at least a portion of it.
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 Al Franken did a bit on Saturday Night Live in the 1990s called, “Daily Affirmation With Stuart Smalley,” a mock self-help show where the mild-mannered Smalley discussed his and his celebrity guests’ struggles with various addictions and afflictions.
Each satirical sketch ended with Smalley reciting his catchphrase in the mirror, “I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and doggone it, people like me!” Sure, Stuart Smalley is a caricature of a person plagued with low self-esteem. But because all satire is rooted in truth, I would contend that there’s a little bit of him in all of us. I don’t know about you, but even in the best of times, I need a periodic — if not daily — reminder of my worth. I wrote a post last year about my struggles with self-doubt here, especially related to my freelance writing and media consultant business. The longer I am in business for myself, the more confident I’ve become about my abilities and potential for sustained success, but I still falter from time to time.  Rejection.
Turns out that I am just NOT a fan. I know, I know… who is, right? *SIGH* I’ve been reminded on a couple of fronts during the past month exactly how much it can suck ass, and how quickly– no matter how strong or confident I am in my everyday life – it can bring out my petulant inner 3-year-old. And she is a prissy, weepy, self-centered lil’ brat, that one. I’ve written in this space before about how much work it seems to take to attain an active social life as a single, 40-something non-drinker. I’ve lost my key social touchstones to their own recent lifestyle changes (one BFF got married and had a youngun; the other took on a new, super demanding career), so left to my own devices, I’m flailing a bit. Since mid-summer, I’ve been grateful to regularly hook up with a new girlfriend who I adore more every time I see her. We are so much alike, it’s kinda scary. We've bonded over the precariousness of the local social scene, and we both have been actively seeking out things to do together. I am so lucky to have found her (or that she found me, whatevs). She is turning out to be a fantastic wingman on so many levels. This past weekend, my new bestie invited me out to watch the UofL game and then wander the Highlands Festival with her and a random assortment of our friends and acquaintances. It was a beautiful day, and we had a great time together. |
About Amy HiggsA former newspaper columnist, Amy takes her random, slice-of-life stories to the web. After 12 years, she's still just saying. Archives
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