Filed under: Misc. Humor, Posts, Sports | Tags: adulthood, funny, Horses, humor, mental health, self aimge, sports
Have you ever felt like you have no business doing what you’re doing? Like you are in no way qualified, and that any minute people will see right through you? It’s called Imposter Syndrome, and most of us have all felt it to varying degrees.
“I cannot believe people are actually trusting me to take care of a real, live newborn baby. What are they thinking?”
“I am in no way qualified to do this job – these people really need to work on their hiring process.”
“I have no business being in this competition. Everyone else is better than me. I’m just going to suck, then have a meltdown in my car and go home.”
(By the way – despite my fam calling me “Dr. Libby” because, let’s face it, I like to diagnose – sometimes correctly – people based on totally sketchy things I’ve read, I am not actually a doctor and am using any actual medical terms pretty loosely. I am also not in any way trying to minimize real mental health issues.)
I don’t often feel that way – probably because of a very misplaced, innate sense of self-confidence, or because I take great care to keep people’s expectations low…I mean LOW…so they (and I) aren’t disappointed. But lately I’ve been wallowing in it – with my sport and my appearance.
Let’s talk about Imposter Syndrome in sports – I’ll follow up with appearance in the next blog. Most of you know I love riding horses. The smell of the barn, the necessity of being present, and of course the partnership that comes with hard work and trust. But the last few months have been a mental struggle, feeling like I’m not accomplishing anything and that I really don’t deserve to move on to the next level.
In the horse world, feeling like you don’t measure up happens A LOT. At some barns, people can be judgmental about the horse you own, the quality of your tack or your clothes – like Mean Girl judgmental. Even the very nature of horse shows is judgy – you are literally paying someone to judge you.
But I’m not showing right now, and I don’t belong to a barn where people are competitive with each other – in fact, it’s just the opposite. We are incredibly supportive, even when we see the train going off the rails. So why do I still sometimes feel like I don’t deserve to be riding the horse I am leasing?
I think it’s because Imposter Syndrome can also be caused by our own reception of kindness.
What I mean is, it’s easier to dismiss people who are judging you who don’t know you, don’t know your story, and don’t know your goals. It’s harder to live up to people who are being kind. It’s a whole lot easier to say, “She’s a bitch and doesn’t know me, so I can let her judgement go.” It’s a lot harder to say, “This person has invested an interest in me and is helping me work through my shit. I don’t want to disappoint them…but I know I’m going to. I don’t deserve to be here, doing this because I’m going to suck.”
Wow – so you feel bad when you think people are being mean, and you feel bad when people are being nice. You (and the nice people) are in a lose-lose situation.
So how do you break out of this? Someone probably has a dissertation about it, or a self-help book on how to deal with this…but here’s what I’m trying to do.
Recognize that real kindness comes from a place of compassion, with no expectations. The only expectations others who are kind are putting on me are fictional – my own brain is coming up with these all on its own. I need to remember to recognize it, own it and embrace what is being handed to me.
Practice talking positively to myself. I need to remember to not talk to myself any less kindly than I would to a friend or a neighbor. Part of that positive talk is keeping perspective and looking back on how far I’ve come.
Recognize that there are good days and bad days, and they’re both okay. Some great advice I got was from a Pilates instructor who said at the beginning of every class, “Do the best you can with what you brought today.” It’s important to recognize that I’m not going to kill it every day. And, on the days when I don’t and the whole ride is a shit show, I need to take a nugget of positivity – even if it’s “Hey, that was a shit show, but you didn’t die – look how strong your legs are now!” Or, “That was a mess, but what did you learn? You can use that next time.”
So, for the friends who are being kind to me, don’t feel bad and please don‘t stop – it’s a me issue. Plus, you get actual mental and physical health benefits from being kind, too. For those of you who are in fact judging me (when I haven’t paid you to), piss off. I know you’re an Imposter, too.
Filed under: Exercise, Misc. Humor, Posts, shopping | Tags: adulthood, clothing, fashion, humor, shopping
I have a solution to cut some emissions by limiting clothing return costs.
I’m tired of trying to figure out what size I am when buying clothes online. When clothing sites show me diagrams and ask if I’m apple shaped or pear shaped, rectangular or hourglass (who still uses one of those, anyway?), I have no idea which box to check.
How about asking if I’m chair-shaped? Because that’s probably more accurate. I sit in a chair for eight hours a day, then sit on the couch watching tv.
I think consumers would be better off if companies asked you what body issues you deal with – are your arms too long? Too short? Not fitting into sleeves the circumference of a paper towel roll? Does your stomach currently hang over your pants or is it still managing to hide behind your waistband? Is your waist small but your hips look like they could squeeze out a watermelon at a moment’s notice? Are your boobs playing permanent hide-and-seek or are they announcing to the world that they exist and then moving around all on their own? Are your love handles showing beneath your shirt? Are your man-boobs letting the world know what temperature it is?
If companies asked these kinds of sizing questions, we might have more success and cut our return shipping costs in half, thus helping to SAVE THE ENVIRONMENT.
I think office clothing should be described in catalogs by the kind of office job you do:
- Casual work-from-home, not client-facing, sits in chair 8-12 hours a day but has to pee a lot and has a sore neck from squinting at the laptop screen. You would most likely get joggers (comfortable, easy to get on and off), a collared work shirt or blouse with a secret heating pad built into the neckline because your neck is tired from jutting forward, and because people only see you from the waist up.
- In the office, client-facing, has hot flashes or works in office space with badly controlled heating/cooling systems. Non-wrinkle suit or tailored skirt and blouse (also with hidden heated/cooling neck pad). Secret pocket for stress ball or fidget or tiny voodoo doll of boss.
Even if you don’t work in an office the same types of “issue” questions would still apply.
Or, better yet, you should be able to dress for the job you actually WANT to do. For some of you, that may mean dressing like a CEO, which is what we were all taught to do (“Dress for the job you want”). For many of us, it would make coming into work so much more interesting, like Halloween every day, and you get to guess what the other person’s real dreams are/were.
For example, I would love to be a successful author who sits by the pool with a glass of wine contemplating the next chapter of my novel. Or, my job would be to hike and take equestrian vacations, writing travel blogs and articles. If you wanted to be a firefighter, you could wear the whole outfit, or just the mask. Same for a scuba diver. Pirate? That would be awesome!
Professional poker player? Fighter jet pilot? Spy? The options are endless – and don’t just limit yourself to just one occupational outfit. Life is full of options, and your “dream” wardrobe choices should be too.
In the meantime, until the professional world allows us the freedom to dress for the jobs we REALLY wanted, let’s just see if companies can come up with something a little better than asking what fruit we look like.
Filed under: Middle Age, Misc. Humor | Tags: 1980s, adulthood, humor, Middle-Age, mindfulness, music, songs, teens
Whenever Hubby and I go on a road trip we like to listen to podcast called “The Moth.” In this podcast regular people share true stories along a single theme. This weekend the theme was how music shapes or affects your life.
I started thinking and realized I have several pivotal memories that had songs associated with them. To this day, they can dredge up what I was feeling at that time.
When I was 12, I had a huge crush on a boy at my school named John. We were at that awkward age where we still wanted to play, ride bikes together and climb trees. But somewhere between pretending we were the Duke boys and the middle of 6th grade, things changed. By the time the first middle school dance rolled around, I was head over heels. On the night of the dance I shimmied on my Jordache jeans that were way out of my newly-divorced mom’s budget, smeared on some purple eye shadow because I read it accentuated green eyes, and drew what I thought were dramatic black circles around my eyes with eyeliner. I’m pretty sure I looked like a raccoon in drag.
When the first notes of Purple Rain came over the gymnasium speakers, I looked for John and my heart dropped into my shoes. My beloved was dancing with my friend Becca. Then they were kissing – French kissing, no less! I literally felt my heart break, and today I still hate Purple Rain with a passion.
A year later at a 7th grade co-ed party, several of us were sitting in a circle playing the obligatory game of Spin the Bottle (I have no idea where the parents were). I hadn’t had my first real kiss yet, and butterflies were jumping on a trampoline in my stomach. REO Speedwagon’s “I Can’t Fight This Feelin’ Any Longer” was playing softly in the background. Finally, I looked down – the bottle was pointing at me! A boy named David, who had braces just like me, came in for the kiss. It was just what you would expect: spitty, messy and completely unappealing. But I had crossed over some invisible threshold, and REO Speedwagon was with me. It’s also not a current favorite.
All through high school, songs and bands marked various events. U2 was a date with Colin; Echo & the Bunnymen played during rides to school in John McGarity’s car; Free Bird signified The First Time (of course it did); The Cars were a beach party; The Clash and Erasure carried me through summers lifeguarding; Blister in the Sun was every party in the woods; and, the Red Hot Chili Peppers were the summer after graduation.
Then I started thinking about what our song is. Hubby and I have tried a few times over the last 30 years to identify one, but no single song has ever really stuck. Bad Company drove with us on road trips to the mountains; PM Dawn carried us up and down 95; Poison by Bel Biv DeVoe kept us dancing ‘til the wee hours at the clubs in Bermuda, and Carbon Leaf has stayed with us from college to the present.
I realized we don’t have just one song that’s ours because we’ve changed and grown up along with the music we listen to. It makes sense now why my 50th birthday playlist was so long. That’s a lot of big moments, and music was more often than not a large part of them.
If you have a lot of songs that bring that old anxiety, joy, relaxation, or nostalgia back, consider yourself lucky – it’s proof you were in the moment. Choose your next songs carefully – you never know what feelings will become entwined with them.
Our memories may be faulty, but the songs stay true.
Thanks for indulging me on my trip down memory lane!
Filed under: Misc. Humor | Tags: adulthood, happiness, humor, mental health, stress management
In this week’s episode of The Apocalypse is Coming, the Seven Horsemen are: UFOs, earthquakes, earth’s magnetic core shifting, a canyon threatening to split Africa in two, more earthquakes, domestic terrorist attacks and Terminator-level artificial intelligence.
When responding to questions about why all of the sudden we are shooting down so many UFOs, the US government said there was a “recalibration” of their search parameters. In other words, they told their computers to be less specific when looking for stuff, and so they found more stuff. Preppers and conspiracy theorists may say that’s a red herring for other nefarious activities, but it made me think.
Why is it so hard for us, as people, to recalibrate how we look at things?
Stay with me…
I fall asleep in front of the tv after dinner, only to lie awake at 3am making my ALL THE THINGS list in my head. And you know what? My ALL THE THINGS list is never completed. In case you’re wondering, yes, relaxing is one of the items on my ALL THE THINGS list.
I know…it’s so messed up. And I swear to God if one more person says the words “self-care” around me I’ll add beating the shit out of them to my ALL THE THINGS list.
So how do you get out of this circle of thinking you’re going to feel better if you do ALL THE THINGS, when you just keep adding more things to the ALL THE THINGS list? You’re setting yourself up to fail, because you will never get the emotional reward because you’ve finished the list.
I’ve come to the conclusion that in order for me to feel fulfilled, I too am going to have to, God forbid, take a page out of the government handbook and do some recalibrating.
Recalibrating means adjusting the parameters of your goals. Fulfillment, or even joy, tends to come in the big or moments, like doing a specific activity or achieving a huge goal. That’s great, but what about the other 95% of your time that is not participating those bog or specific moments? Limiting your search for fulfillment to completing your ALL THE THINGS list or experiencing joy in the big moments makes the rest of your time seem awful in comparison, and makes your ALL THE THINGS list seem way more important than it is.
The best way I can think of making the other 95% of the time better is to celebrate the everyday things I take for granted, like taking a second in the morning the celebrate the amazing body I have – my heart beats and my lungs expand without me having to think about it. Or hearing birds call out even in the depths of winter. For you, do whatever it is that makes your day a little better when you stop and take notice.
If we can be content, or better yet, joyful, with the everyday things, we may not be so obsessed with completing our ALL THE THINGS list.
Okay, now I can cross off “Write blog this week” from the list, and add – “Practice what your preach.”
Filed under: Middle Age, Misc. Humor | Tags: adulting, cancer, cologuard, health, humor, Middle-Age, New Year's
I’m not a big fan of New Year’s resolutions, mostly because I don’t stick to them. Now that I’m in my 50’s, there are a couple of things that probably should go on the resolutions list:
- Stop cussing so much, even though social media says you’re smarter if you do
- Try Dry January
- Learn how to do the backhanded Southern compliment thing (“You are so brave to stop drinking – people won’t recognize you!”)
- Say no to the good so you can say yes to the great!
- Do the Colonoscopy Thing*
When I had my latest physical in December, my doctor and I agreed that I’m a good candidate for ColoGuard…you know, the commercial you see on the TV where they deliver the box to your door, you poop in it and send it back. I’m a 70-percenter, meaning there are a lot of things that are “good enough” for me. I’ve accepted it, my family and friends have accepted it. So, being a 70-percenter, doing the ColoGuard screening makes sense – why go 100% with a free, covered-by-insurance colonoscopy when you can take the also-free shortcut, and then possibly pay for the full colonoscopy if the results come back positive?
Anyway, I was excited to not be put under and go through the prep of a colonoscopy. Pooping in a box sounded way easier.
(WARNING! This is somewhat descriptive, so don’t read on if you’re not into talking about stuff like this.)
Turns out, there’s a little more to it than that.
You don’t just poop in a box, seal it up and mail it. There’s a wand you have to swoosh around in your poop and stick in a tube like a Covid test, and preservative to pour into the poop container. It’s a pretty gross process and takes a little locked-door private time in the bathroom if you ever want to have sex again, or if you have children who barge into the bathroom with you and you don’t want to scar them for life.
The instructions are lengthy and explicit…as in an entire booklet. Then there’s a separate booklet for how to pack it up and mail it. There are even diagrams showing people sitting on the toilet doing their thing, and step-by-step instructions on how to untwist the top of the poop container, in case you’ve never opened anything in your life.
Instructions aside, there are also several warnings throughout the booklet telling you not to drink the preservative. Several warnings…as if this has been a large problem in the past and now, they have to spell it out for folks. As in…Don’t drink the bottle of stuff that was made to keep your poop fresh. Who is doing that? You are literally in a bathroom next to a sink with water, but no…some people are reaching for the sketchy bottle from the poop company and drinking that instead.
They also tell you not to fill the poop catcher up any higher than the preservative will cover.
I actually paused when I read that and thought, Let me get this straight. You’re supposed to poop into a container that is under you, where you can’t see it, and try to judge how much is too much? I’m willing to bet there’s a lot of containers shipping with a little bit of extra baggage. I’ve got a pretty strong stomach, but unless they give me a spoon and a gas mask, I’m not measuring it out like I’m baking poop cookies.
Then there are the warnings not to get any urine in with the poop.
So they’re telling 50-year-old women not to accidentally pee on something? While sitting on the toilet? Have they met any 50-year-old women? We can’t do anything without accidentally peeing. So, yeah…good luck ladies.
Long story short, I got it all accomplished and took my very identifiable box to the local UPS store, who I use for all my shipping needs. They know me. To their credit they didn’t even flinch as they gave me the tracking receipt (which I promptly lost). Oh, and word to the wise: keep your tracking receipt. Those boxes do occasionally go astray, as I learned from a friend. Apparently, her box never reached its destination and is still traveling. Now she has to do it all again.
I never received confirmation that my sample was received, and since I lost the tracking receipt I had no way of knowing if there was a box of my leftovers floating around some warehouse or lying on the side of the road. Thankfully, a couple of days ago I received a text with my results: all negative.
In the end, it was a weird, kind of gross experience, but thank goodness for the advances of science that make this process possible, and for the discoveries that lead to early detection.
So here’s my PSA – do whatever test is right for you, check your insurance policies, and for God’s, sake don’t drink the preservative!
*It is extremely important that you get tested. While I chose ColoGuard, it is not for everyone. Ask your doctor what test is best for you and get it done!
Subourbon Mom 