The other night, I realized that I was, shall we say, running off at the mouth. Just moments after the “conversation,” I stepped into my car and realized what an idiot I must have seemed. It was my first opportunity in a long while to talk with another videographer. He has impressive credentials, and I think I was pulling out the stops regarding who I had worked for to cover my insecurities.
Insecurity strikes at the strangest time. And there you are, behaving like a high school kid strutting his minor-league stuff.
I know that I am not alone. I’ve witnessed some world-class meltdowns by supremely qualified individuals. It doesn’t take much when the vulnerable spot gets exposed. We tend to put armor plates over the tender spots. But armor can only do so much.
As I reviewed the conversation, I realized that I had just presented a tactless display of ego but had avoided advancing to being insulting to my colleague.
My theory of insecurity is that it’s like a secret river running through us. We all have weak spots where the river worries the banks and erodes the self-confidence we’ve carefully built up. We can improve our lot with education, counseling, and therapy. But for most of us, at least a trickle continues to flow.
I think the best defense against it is to admit that it’s there, that it threatens us at some fundamental level, and then reaffirm our strengths, achievements, and joys.
But always acknowledge that it is there because denying its existence only allows it to grow in the darkness.
Ahhh…sometimes I tell myself, “Pretend as if you weren’t insecure.” Sometimes that means “Shut up Martha.”
Yeah. I know I’ve been saying “shut up Lou” frequently.