my highlight reel
One of my favorite new bloggers, who just so happens to be an old work associate of mine, recently wrote about the correlation between her lack of cooking ability and feelings of inadequacy as a woman. I thought it was interesting that she chose to share that insecurity (in her adorable, humorous way) because I was actually considering writing a similar post of my own today.
I feel inadequate to other people, period. And I feel this way particularly about women. I could actually care less what men are doing because, quite frankly, men aren’t my competition. Other women are. And, whether we choose to admit it or not, society has done an awesome job of pitting us against one another, be it comparing how we dress, the shape of our bodies, or what we do for a living.
And you know who I blame?
That’s right, I blame the entire internet.
I blame Twitter, the biggest bragging platform of them all, and its ability to show me tweets from other women who were up at 5:30 a.m. for a brisk 20 mile run or to bake pies for a dinner party that night. You know what I was doing at 5:30 a.m.? Snoring. Don’t get me wrong, I never miss a workout, but you can guarantee my sweat session won’t be happening until after I get home from work … and after I take a nap.
I am not a morning person. No matter how hard I try, 10 out of 10 times I’m going to choose an extra 20 minutes of sleep over getting a head start on the day’s productivity. I didn’t wake up early enough this morning to scramble a healthy egg white omelet with a side of turkey sausage and a cup of fresh coffee I ground myself. Not even close. I tossed a store-brand protein bar into my purse on my way out the door and then crammed it into my face while I read the news at my desk. And when I say news, I don’t mean I was perusing CNN.com. to brush up on what’s going on overseas or with the election. I was checking gossip websites to see if Blake Lively and Ryan Reynolds released any wedding photos yet.
I blame the health and wellness bloggers who are forever posting pictures of the amazing, delectable recipes that they magically came up with on their own because they understand ovens and how food works. Me? I can’t even bake a frozen pizza without reading the box. For every okay-looking recipe I post on this blog, there about 100 other cringe-worthy cooking disasters that I would never dare openly admit to in public. If I don’t have a recipe to follow, I hit the panic button.
I blame Pinterest for showing me millions of amazing things that I will never be able to afford or do on my own without the assistance of a professional seamstress or robbing a bank.
Oh, a tutorial on how to make dainty little roses out of cut and coiled construction paper? That’s awesome! I’m sure my man hands and complete lack of scissor skills will serve me well with this project!
My, my! That burnt orange cable-knit sweater is gorgeous. Let me just check the link and—Oh, it’s $298? That’s totally reasonable.
I blame Facebook for making me feel like I have the social life of a dead moth. My newsfeed overfloweth with pictures and status updates of glitzy parties, posh weddings and exciting trips to Europe. You know what I did last Friday night? I fell asleep on the couch watching re-runs of Hoarders.
And it’s no one else’s fault but my own for letting these outside sources somehow make me feel lesser about myself. I mean, I’m the one that’s somehow taking these amazing things I’m seeing and twisting them to mean that I’m lacking something. I could easily choose to stop reading those blogs. I could delete my Pinterest account (heaven forbid). I could stop looking at the photo essays of my loved ones' exciting lives on Facebook. But I won’t. Why? Because as much as I hate that social media holds up a mirror and forces me to examine the quality of my own life, it also offers inspiration and actually gives me something to strive for. I just need to learn to leave my self-esteem out of the equation. There’s always going to be someone out there who appears to “have it all” or, at the very least, appear to be slightly better than you. And just because someone wakes up early to do Cross Fit or whips up yummy meals with ingredients from their very own gardens doesn’t mean I’m any less successful or interesting. It's just different. Different strokes for different folks, right?
It would serve me well to remember a quote I saw, ironically, floating around Pinterest and posted earlier this year:
^^I am so guilty of this very same thing. I’m guilty of only showing my highlight reel. Not only do I constantly compare my weaknesses to everyone’s strengths, I make it a point to not let too much of the ugly or weird reach the surface. Who wants to read about my failures? Why would I want you know to know my struggles? Why would I want you to think I’m anything less than perfect, wonderful and alluring? Well, I hope it doesn’t come to shock to you, but I’m not perfect, wonderful, or alluring.
So, that being said, do you know what I did today? I accidentally picked a wedgie so hard I ripped a hole in my underwear.
Hand to God.