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Essay 13

Essay 13

Essay 13

Essay 13

The insecurity paradox

The insecurity paradox

The insecurity paradox

The insecurity paradox

3 Jan 2024

3 Jan 2024

3 Jan 2024

3 Jan 2024

3 min

3 min

3 min

3 min

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In 2020, when I started therapy for the first time, my therapist asked me, “Whose voice have you internalised? The one that is extremely critical of you, no matter how well you are doing.” I wanted to blame my parents. It seemed like the right answer. But I knew it wasn’t true. My mother was strict but not harsh. My dad’s happiness was not tied to my achievement. “I think it is my own. I have always spoken to myself this way,” I said.

In 2020, when I started therapy for the first time, my therapist asked me, “Whose voice have you internalised? The one that is extremely critical of you, no matter how well you are doing.” I wanted to blame my parents. It seemed like the right answer. But I knew it wasn’t true. My mother was strict but not harsh. My dad’s happiness was not tied to my achievement. “I think it is my own. I have always spoken to myself this way,” I said.

In 2020, when I started therapy for the first time, my therapist asked me, “Whose voice have you internalised? The one that is extremely critical of you, no matter how well you are doing.” I wanted to blame my parents. It seemed like the right answer. But I knew it wasn’t true. My mother was strict but not harsh. My dad’s happiness was not tied to my achievement. “I think it is my own. I have always spoken to myself this way,” I said.

‘Write unsparingly about yourself, how much you suck is what makes you relatable.’, Charlie Bleecker taught me in a writing course I took last year.

That would be easy I thought. I am unsparing about myself. If a friend said the things I say to myself, I don’t think we would remain friends for long. I should be nicer, less judgemental, be more social, be more kind, be less controlling, be more patient. So much material to choose from. But when I tried writing unsparingly, I found myself resisting. Trying to add sentences that would redeem me. Making sure that everyone didn’t think I was all that bad.

I did this for most of my 20s too. My friends didn’t know anything about my life. I was worried that I didn’t come from the right place, didn’t go to the right school, didn’t have the right background, wasn’t a good person. And every time someone disliked me, it was proof that I had been right all along.

There are only two ways to get over insecurity. One, when it isn't true anymore. Now that I live comfortably in Bangalore, I can talk about how I grew up in a 500 sq. ft. house with my two brothers, parents and an ailing grandmother.

The second way is a strange paradox. The less I hide, the less insecure I am. The more honest I am about my flaws, the easier it is to form connections, to be happy. My closest friends know the truth about my life, what I think of myself and where I wish to go. And I feel closest to the people who are willing to be themselves, warts and all, with me.

‘Write unsparingly about yourself, how much you suck is what makes you relatable.’, Charlie Bleecker taught me in a writing course I took last year.

That would be easy I thought. I am unsparing about myself. If a friend said the things I say to myself, I don’t think we would remain friends for long. I should be nicer, less judgemental, be more social, be more kind, be less controlling, be more patient. So much material to choose from. But when I tried writing unsparingly, I found myself resisting. Trying to add sentences that would redeem me. Making sure that everyone didn’t think I was all that bad.

I did this for most of my 20s too. My friends didn’t know anything about my life. I was worried that I didn’t come from the right place, didn’t go to the right school, didn’t have the right background, wasn’t a good person. And every time someone disliked me, it was proof that I had been right all along.

There are only two ways to get over insecurity. One, when it isn't true anymore. Now that I live comfortably in Bangalore, I can talk about how I grew up in a 500 sq. ft. house with my two brothers, parents and an ailing grandmother.

The second way is a strange paradox. The less I hide, the less insecure I am. The more honest I am about my flaws, the easier it is to form connections, to be happy. My closest friends know the truth about my life, what I think of myself and where I wish to go. And I feel closest to the people who are willing to be themselves, warts and all, with me.

‘Write unsparingly about yourself, how much you suck is what makes you relatable.’, Charlie Bleecker taught me in a writing course I took last year.

That would be easy I thought. I am unsparing about myself. If a friend said the things I say to myself, I don’t think we would remain friends for long. I should be nicer, less judgemental, be more social, be more kind, be less controlling, be more patient. So much material to choose from. But when I tried writing unsparingly, I found myself resisting. Trying to add sentences that would redeem me. Making sure that everyone didn’t think I was all that bad.

I did this for most of my 20s too. My friends didn’t know anything about my life. I was worried that I didn’t come from the right place, didn’t go to the right school, didn’t have the right background, wasn’t a good person. And every time someone disliked me, it was proof that I had been right all along.

There are only two ways to get over insecurity. One, when it isn't true anymore. Now that I live comfortably in Bangalore, I can talk about how I grew up in a 500 sq. ft. house with my two brothers, parents and an ailing grandmother.

The second way is a strange paradox. The less I hide, the less insecure I am. The more honest I am about my flaws, the easier it is to form connections, to be happy. My closest friends know the truth about my life, what I think of myself and where I wish to go. And I feel closest to the people who are willing to be themselves, warts and all, with me.

‘Write unsparingly about yourself, how much you suck is what makes you relatable.’, Charlie Bleecker taught me in a writing course I took last year.

That would be easy I thought. I am unsparing about myself. If a friend said the things I say to myself, I don’t think we would remain friends for long. I should be nicer, less judgemental, be more social, be more kind, be less controlling, be more patient. So much material to choose from. But when I tried writing unsparingly, I found myself resisting. Trying to add sentences that would redeem me. Making sure that everyone didn’t think I was all that bad.

I did this for most of my 20s too. My friends didn’t know anything about my life. I was worried that I didn’t come from the right place, didn’t go to the right school, didn’t have the right background, wasn’t a good person. And every time someone disliked me, it was proof that I had been right all along.

There are only two ways to get over insecurity. One, when it isn't true anymore. Now that I live comfortably in Bangalore, I can talk about how I grew up in a 500 sq. ft. house with my two brothers, parents and an ailing grandmother.

The second way is a strange paradox. The less I hide, the less insecure I am. The more honest I am about my flaws, the easier it is to form connections, to be happy. My closest friends know the truth about my life, what I think of myself and where I wish to go. And I feel closest to the people who are willing to be themselves, warts and all, with me.

My therapist had asked me whose voice I could use to talk to myself, a voice that was compassionate, held me to a high standard (like I wanted) but was on my side. I didn’t have a good answer then. Today, I am surrounded by a partner and friends who shine the kindest light on me. While travelling recently, Siddharth told me how my paranoia always saves him future trouble. When someone says how I take my time with friendship, Advaith will tell them, “Yes because she is the most dedicated friend I know. So she needs to know you are here for the long run.”

Like Charlie says, how much you suck is what makes you relatable. The thing we fear makes us unlovable actually makes us less so. This doesn’t mean I don’t want to improve, I just don’t have to be insecure about who I am today. I am flawed, neurotic, petty sometimes. But still loving myself right back.

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It will be a reminder to stop scrolling and read something fun.

FEEL FREE TO REACH OUT IF YOU HAVE ANY THOUGHTS OR JUST WANT TO SAY HI.

Design/dev by @itsiddharth

Get a mail everytime a post goes up.

It will be a reminder to stop scrolling and read something fun.

FEEL FREE TO REACH OUT IF YOU HAVE ANY THOUGHTS OR JUST WANT TO SAY HI.

Design/dev by @itsiddharth

Get a mail everytime a post goes up.

It will be a reminder to stop scrolling and read something fun.

FEEL FREE TO REACH OUT IF YOU HAVE ANY THOUGHTS OR JUST WANT TO SAY HI.

Design/dev by @itsiddharth