alone

They Know Me Well, They Know Me Not, I Knew Myself, But Then Forgot

/ Candace Smith / 1 Comment

It is a fairly common occurrence; you find yourself in an environment in which you are surrounded by strangers, none of whom seem to have the slightest inclination to become acquainted with you. Most of the time, I couldn’t care less in these situations, as it is unlikely I will see any of those people again. Other times it can feel alienating, such as sitting in the staff lounge when no one engages you in a group conversation. Even then, I can brush it off fairly easily as they are not the sort of people I would enjoy knowing better in the first place.

However, something that seems to be a recurring struggle in my life is that I find myself feeling alienated from my own friends, through no fault of their own. Looking back, I can pinpoint when this first became an issue and why. I had been targeted by several classmates from 4th grade through 8th grade as an outlet for their aggression both verbally and physically. From name calling, such as: witch (because of my mole), pizza face (obvious), godzilla (never quite understood that one, maybe because I was tall at the time?) and others, to girls drawing on my face while I slept at a sleep-over and bragging about it at school the next week, I felt despised and found myself becoming reserved and quiet whenever I was away from home.

This behavior carried on into High School and even as an adult, without my being completely aware of it. At times, I would be painfully conscious of how shy I was behaving, and would be frustrated as that is not at all part of my natural personality. When my family would hear me referred to as shy and quiet, they were baffled and would even laugh, as I was notorious at home for being a very silly chatter-box.

For the most part, I have been able to rid myself of this shyness born from self-preservation, but I have realized a more subtle by-product of my being bullied. Very few of my friends have witnessed the full range of my personality traits. It is a strange cycle, in which I seem to shackle myself to the original circumstances of each friendship. I have subconsciously splintered aspects of my personality and reserved them for certain groups of friends. While some friends are likely to refer to me as feisty, snarky and outspoken, others are just as likely to define me as sensitive, anxious and serious. When I analyze my different relationships, it saddens me to realize how many people who know me have witnessed and interacted with only a few facets of my personality.

I have so many qualities and I want them all to be expressed with abandon whenever they arise, instead of being internalized. As I contemplated why it is so difficult for me to give these traits free reign, I came to the inevitable revelation that, once again, the cause is a lack of all-encompassing self-love. A quote that really resonates on this idea says, “I need to learn to love the parts of me that aren’t applauded.” While I have self-love for myself in a general sense, I do not always feel affection for my particular qualities unless I receive some form of validation from others, confirming these qualities to be desirable. The day that I love every aspect of myself, even if others do not, is the day I will finally be living truthfully.

my traits

Until next time,

Candace

An open letter to that person who keeps harrassing and shaming me:

/ Candace Smith / Leave a comment

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.

“You’re Always With Yourself, So You Might As Well Enjoy The Company”

/ Candace Smith / 1 Comment

Dag Nabit (excuse my midwesternese). Don’t you hate when you come up with this brilliant concept and then do a Google search and realize it’s nothing new? Such is the struggle of existing in the 21st Century. Billions of people have come before us, sharing their own philosophies on life and claiming ownership of new ideas and break-throughs.

The other day I was driving in my car. Alone. Which usually leads to some pretty odd behavior. Whether it be really bad attempts at embodying that elusive fierceness Beyonce has, or talking in weird voices as though I’m performing a variety show for an audience of one.  I’m not even aware of how weird my behavior may be considered by outsiders until a car happens to be driving even with me for an extended period of time.

Suddenly *POOF*, the illusion that I am invisible to the rest of the world through the magic of driving at 65 mph (who are we kidding, 72..3….okay maybe 5 mph) disappears and I instantly revert to “traditional” driving habits. Meaning: no whipping my hair back and forth, no over-the-top impressions of pop stars like Kesha and Miley Cyrus and DEFINITELY no Beyonce inspired seated dance solos. Just good ‘ol hands at ten and two (do people actually do that?), chair and tray in the upright position…wait that’s not right.

So after the sudden onslaught of self-awareness, I begin to question my behavior. Is it strange to have so much fun when I am by myself? Don’t movies and TV shows tell us that being by yourself equals loneliness or boredom? While that may be true for many people, and some of the time even  myself, isn’t it strange to have the expectation of boredom while with your only constant companion? You are the only person who is privy to every thought, every hope, every fear you have ever had. And unless you have mastered a Buddhist monk level of meditation, I doubt your thoughts are ever completely quiet. You are constantly carrying on a dialogue with yourself. “What is that smell? Oh, it’s them. Ah! I can’t breathe! Okay, don’t be obvious, it’ll hurt their feelings. Inhale through the mouth. Oh man, I’m starting to feel light-headed. Finally! NEVER want to be stuck in a check-out line with them again. *GASP*”

It’s a strangely specific example, I know, but I had a particularly unpleasant check-out experience the other day at Vons. The point is, you are stuck with yourself, so why not be good company? (Sound familiar? Yeah, apparently I’m not as brilliantly enlightened as I had thought.)

Warning!

Side effects may include: increased self-esteem, decreased sense of boredom, increased levels of fun and laughter.

Until next time,

Candace