You beat me down, I’m bleeding out

Dreams shatter on the floor

Can’t walk out the door

This shame I feel

Is all too real

 When you batter me

Loathe me

Disarm me

And disrobe me

Standing naked before you

Thinking, once, I adored you

And now, I implore you

Love me again

Be a true friend

See the beauty within

Forgive the sin

Of my lethargy

And decaying dreams

A soul that’s imploding

From all this self-loathing

Stifling trepidation

Highlights every imperfection

Deteriorates my hope, my joy

All things that uplift

Fall into a void

An eternal stalemate

With this viscous ingrate

Clawing

Ripping

Shredding throughout

Fueled by a deep, dark pool

Filled only with doubt

I know this place

I’ve been here before

Sometimes I forget

But I’ll prevail once more

Never giving in; I’m Rising up

I know, I know. I was tricky, making you think this was directed at someone other than myself. But that’s the thing. That part of me, that judges and inflicts so much pain feels as though it is other than myself. I am never that cruel of a person. I am forgiving and compassionate and encouraging. Except, unfortunately, with myself. I would chalk it up to the fact that I am an actor, but this toxic self-judgement is not unique to actors. So many people get caught up in measuring their self-worth with the ideals of others. Whether it be appearance, hobbies, career, parenting style, or even personality, which is essentially who you are, we are constantly finding ourselves to be lacking.

Let’s have a “Mean Girls” Moment. Raise your hand if you’ve thought one of these:

I’m too fat.

I’m too skinny.

I wish I was funny.

I am so stupid.

I am so lame.

I am a loser.

I am a failure.

Why can’t I be more like THEM?

Granted, these are only a handful of criticisms we often have of ourselves, but we seem to hold them in such high regard that we are blinded to the attributes we do have. We do not have to look like that person, act like that person, or live like that person. I am an individual, as are you. Each of us with unique life experiences and insights that influence who we are and what we do. Now, once you remove the useless comparisons, what is left? Your goals and dreams. Who do you want to be? What do you want to accomplish during your time here on Earth?

A few months back, I finally got my second wind after a long bout with crippling insecurities paired with grief. I reacquainted myself with my goals and dreams and started this blog to give myself an outlet as well as a way to hold myself accountable to the pursuit of my dreams. Unfortunately, I faltered and have not written a new post in several weeks. I have had countless ideas for posts and would acknowledge them thinking, “That would be an interesting post.” So why didn’t I ever write them?

That nasty creature, that resides somewhere within me, reared its nasty head again: doubt. I questioned my abilities, talent, and a number of other things and, before I knew it, three months had passed without me posting anything. Even more damaging than the doubt, though, was my inability to forgive myself. After acknowledging that I had faltered, and why, I still did not take up writing again. Because I was so frustrated and angry with myself for faltering in the first place. “Think of where you’d be now, Candace, if you had kept at it!”

It seems that, regardless of what you are internally shaming yourself for, the same viscous circle begins to take form. “So you want to lose weight? Well, why did you eat those Oreos?! You’re such a pig! You are weak! You’re never going to lose weight!” While the supposed “sin” and insults can be substituted, the sentiment cannot. What is most harmful to your success and happiness is not faltering in the first place, but a failure to forgive yourself and move on.

Bouts of insecurities and doubt seem to be a part of growing and evolving. We question ourselves, doubt ourselves, and, hopefully, challenge those doubts. The poem or “open letter” was something I wrote the other day during an hour long drive with my mom. The first three-fourths of the poem are fairly negative and difficult to give life to, but in my heart I knew where the words were leading to, and I didn’t want to give-up until I reached that message of redemption and resilience.

Instead of making a bunch of New Year Resolutions that are supposed to make me more successful and happy, I am going to make an oath to myself.

Candace,

    I vow to be forgiving. To allow you to stumble and fall, without censure.

    I vow to be your biggest cheerleader. Constantly reminding you of what you are capable of achieving.

    And, lastly, I vow to love you. As I love my family and friends. With my whole heart.