July 16, 2013

They Call Me Stupid

Who determines who the expert label-er is?
Ugly, selfish, unlovable, fat, slow.

Well, I was stamped with the "stupid" sticker/label.  
Remember in middle school where unbeknownst to the recipient it was taped to their back?  
Well, adults are a little more mature-they just say it behind your back.

So guess what I did?

Well, at first, I just told myself that of course I wasn't a stupid person.
But somehow the outside words were stronger and louder, taunting and questioning my reassuring inside words.

I then reasoned that maybe logic would help so I looked up the definition because dictionaries don't lie right?
But guess what?
The definition could of described the situation I was in and therefore I could word-wise quantify for my new label.

So I then became more determined to prove that I wasn't stupid, recalling any kind of evidence I could conjure up to substantiate my internal claim.
That yes I was a person with some extent of educational or at least knowledgeable value.

In desperation, I thought of a time where I had spoken on the spot, unprepared in the company of many prestigious people, both in the local community and on the national level.
And how I had gotten complimented for my words after.
I pulled out the DVD of the event to re-watch myself  all the while being the only one that was so thirsty for validation that I was taking detailed mental notes.

But for what?
What was I going to do?  Set up my computer at work and say, "Hey everyone, come see what an influential speaker (another label) I am?"!
It was then I realized how ridiculous I was being.
Even if I had all the proof I could compile from the "intelligent" moments in my life, what did it matter?

Who really was I trying to impress, to convince?

It was then I comprehended how futile it was.

All that mattered is what I believed about myself.

I know better.
I know that people believe what they want to believe even if there is evidence to the contrary, so why did I allow myself to be jolted so far off course?

I will have labels plastered to me the rest of my life.
And the chances of acquiring even more new material as I show signs of aging are likely to be many.

So when am I going to stop worrying about others opinions of myself and consider the self-imposed ones?

Do I like who I am?
Do I like what I see?
Do I like who I am becoming?
Do I like my company?

Because really I am all that matters.

We are the only labelers in our lives whom we should be concerned with.
And even sometimes we need a label check-up because if our self evaluation is low we may need a tune up as our own labels may be askew.

"Labels are for filing.  Labels are for clothing.  Labels are not for people."  ~Martina Navratilova

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