Insecure

I have always been insecure. When I was younger, it was because people pointed out my flaws, mainly my nose, hair, fashion sense, religious background, height, humor, intelligence, and mannerisms. Since I am now 22 and have since grown into my face, have a new fashion sense, dye my hair, sit with better posture, and scream “fuck off” to people who judge my religion, I am a lot more secure in myself.

Of course, I have noticed my insecurities have grown with my anxiety. I have panic attacks when people do not like me and let me know that they do not like me. It is immature, I get that, but it is how I am wired. It hasn’t helped that my appearance has changed, which has led more guys to show interest in me, which has then led to me being super scared that they will one day mention that one of the previously stated insecurities is a problem.

When I was 15/16, boys weren’t interested in me, which was painful emotionally, but probably the best for my development as a person. I grew into my comedy, which relied on self deprecating jokes and brought out my self awareness to my friends. It took me 5 years to believe people when they told me I was pretty. I looked in the mirror and felt like Anne Hathaway in Princess Diaries (2001), when she says, “This is as good as it’s going to get”. I believed that I was always going to be insecure and ugly. I went through these stages of potentially thinking I was pretty, and then realizing I was never gonna look like (insert ANY girl in my age group).

When I was 17, I cut off all of my hair. It sounds stupid that it ruined me as bad as it did, but I cried for months. It looked absolutely horrible. I use that time in my comedy routine, I talk about how I literally looked like a Dutch boy, and it is true. I was not cute by any standard. I hated my life when I cut off all of my hair, and it made me even more insecure. I remember being in community college a few years later and having people I went to high school with say, “wow you changed a lot”. What they meant is, wow, you grew into your face and let your hair grow out. I think this is why I had to leave my hometown, there are way too many memories of my awkward stages and horrific attitude that haunt me there. I needed a fresh start.

Since moving to Davis, I have been on a constant journey of self discovery. My insecurities have followed, but some have been outgrown. I still doubt my own intellligence, mainly because there is a weird subculture of UC Davis students that demands they all use SAT vocab words in conversation, like there 11th grade English teacher will give them extra credit. I could care less about your vernacular, Noah*, you are still a shitty person who doesn’t know that your trendy $300 jacket was made by slave labor. I have started to learn how to take a compliment. Not well, as you can ask literally any guy who has ever given me one, and he will tell you how I roll my eyes or make an excuse or get way too emotional depending on the day. I am learning to not care as much when people don’t love me right off the bat. I get it, I am a lot. I am extremely loud, I don’t believe in whispering, and I do dorky stuff all the time that makes most “cool” people cringe. But my caring has lightened, I am not sure if it is age or life experiences or college, but I am starting to care a lot less.

Insecurities, I think, are important. They keep us in check, and make sure we aren’t cocky assholes. I don’t know, maybe this is just something to tell my therapist.