Eccentric Flower:199905/the begrimed mirror
From Eccentric Flower
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may sixteenth the begrimed mirror Another long one on the same topic, more or less. Forgive me. By later tonight I'll be back to the usual fluff and blather; I think this is the last of it. I got two great pieces of email today from good friends who are completely right. In fact, they're so right that it makes me grit my teeth and say, "How dare they be that right!" Sigh. Here's a small piece of one, from Shmuel, with the gist: Me: Shmuel: People are different, even fiancees, and we all have wildly different perspectives and motivations and needs and so on. That YOU might not feel fulfilled being married to sombody like yourself (or that you can't see how somebody like Nonelvis would) doesn't mean somebody else might not find such a relationship fulfilling indeed. If this is the case, there is absolutely no reason for you to feel guilty. Someone noted that it was a little unfair of me to write this stuff publicly while Nonelvis was away. Well, rest easy. I didn't write any of it while she was away. That would be wrong. I talked about this matter here only after discussing it with her, and none of what I revealed here was news to her. After reading Shmuel's email, and Aussie's, I let Nonelvis read both of those messages - since they both confirm what she's been trying hard to tell me for two days. (Shmuel, she says your check is in the mail. Just kidding.) - - - After reading the email, and the entries, the two of us discussed the idea that I might have a wee bit of a self-image problem. (Nonelvis admits she has one too, for the record.) It's not news to me. In general, anyone I'm friends with has told me at some point to stop apologizing for how worthless I am and get real. Even some people I don't know that well have said this. Some people say it on a regular basis. The weight of the information on the other side is very heavy. Normally all of my conclusions are subject to re-evaluation. They may leave a big mess when they crumble - about which more next time - but I'm willing to hack them apart. When I state an opinion here and get fifty emails telling me why I'm wrong, I go back and look at everything again, because there's a good chance I'm wrong. But my self-worth is one of the few conclusions I have always refused to reconsider. Historically, even if fifty people said I was wrong about my opinion of myself, I had to be right. And they all had to be wrong. My universe is built on the idea that I am mostly worthless. Skilled, in some ways, but a real underachiever. It keeps expectations low - mine and other humans. It gives me a reason for my lack of tangible accomplishment to date. Molly, who has told me several times "Will you please stop apologizing?" should nonetheless understand this rationale. I will have a hard time letting go of this idea. But it will have to change. The original reason I grew this attitude was a social one. It is now beginning to cause its own set of social problems in the opposite direction. Let me explain. - - - Yesterday Nonelvis and I were buying some groceries. Behind us were two gentlemen in early adulthood. After absorbing their testosterone-soaked inanities for a while, I whispered to Nonelvis, "There are times when I really despise my gender." She knew instantly what I was referring to. To me - apologies to all the men who aren't like this - one of the primary problems with "maleness" is the protective veneer of ego that men feel a need to erect around their psyches, this Top Gun-style attitude: "Yes, I am hot stuff and I am aware of it - it's what pushes me on to achieve more, what keeps me going in the morning." Even if they don't thrust their egos in your face in an obnoxious way, most men run on the idea of "I can do more, I can do it better." Performance. This layer of hubris is the single characteristic that drives me away from men most often. I don't work that way. I get out of bed in the morning, write another 2000 words, by telling myself, "You're such a loser, you thought you were going to finish that CGI last week and you haven't even started it yet!" I think my method works better. But it has consequences - consequences which, after ten-plus years of accumulation, are beginning to outweigh the benefits. For one thing, it slops over into aspects of my personal life where it doesn't belong - hence this weekend's angst. For another thing, in attempting to avoid the appearance of ego in conversation, I am becoming aware that I now compensate too far in the opposite direction. It was a big blow to me when Cathy Winks, after observing me in person for maybe three hours total, said to me very gently, "I notice that you always phrase sentences about yourself in a negative way." Ooops. I mean, I don't want to come off as an egotist, but I don't want to come off as Woody Allen or Joe Blfsplk either. (I despise Woody Allen.) - - - Clearly I have got to find a line somewhere in between Tom Cruise - the epitome of everything I despise about men, cocky little ass - and the even worse horrors on the other end. Given a choice, I'd rather be Tom Cruise than Woody Allen. Mind you, neither of these are role models to me. Let's try female models - that way the ideas will be less polarized. Let's go back to The Truth About Cats and Dogs. Uma Thurman is hot stuff and she knows it. She can wrap men around her fingers, have them licking her boots. Janeane Garofalo is a great talker - she can make words do her bidding - but she is pretty much convinced of her worthlessness, and this has made her shy and reclusive and self-abusing. I am Janeane, needless to say. I remember thinking when I saw that movie how it was crazy that the character had such self-doubt. I mean, couldn't she see how cute and funny she was? Even so, when I saw it, I still would rather have been her character than Uma's. No hubris at any cost, nosiree. Never, never strut your stuff. It didn't occur to me until now how many times I wanted to pick Janeane up and shake some sense into her - in character or out of it - I hate comedians who build their routines around self-disparagement; it gets old very quickly. I need to go polish my mirror now.
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