validation.

i need validation.

i don’t think this is unique. we all love when someone tells us we’re good or worthy. there’s a certain high that’s hard to describe when someone compliments something you made, something that didn’t exist until you put it there. most of us seek it out when we share things tepidly with those closest to us, especially on passion projects, things you poured your soul into. you lay yourself bare for someone and hope they accept and appreciate it.

it’s scary to create. i struggle with finishing things that i’m not 100% confident in because i’m terrified of what people will say. it’s something i’ve fought with and wanted to get over. i hate how many unfinished projects i have out there, things i was passionate about until i became too scared to continue. usually, the best way past my problems is through. 

i just force myself to deal with the thing i don’t like, and over time it gets better. in college, to combat my extreme social anxiety i began hosting small board game parties. i used the party hosting genes inherited from my mother to fix my problems with conversation. forcing myself to face my fears was the only conceivable way to get over them. it usually works too, although to varying degrees of success. i like to think of this process as stretching a muscle. like if i just do it enough, i’ll be good at it eventually. that dumb 10,000 hours bullshit really invaded my brain.

that was the whole point of this blog, to get better at writing by doing it every week. i phrased it that way to everyone - it was a muscle to work out since i didn’t really like my writing. this whole mindset is kind of whack though, because i’m not doing anything to actively change the way i approach my writing. i still wait until a few days before i’m supposed to post to begin thinking about what i’m going to write. i still need other people to read my piece before i feel comfortable sharing it. and when someone tells me that they don’t like it, i shut down, just like i did with my ex.

the piece i was going to publish this week fell into that hole. that’s why this is so late, i had been writing another piece and it fell apart. i spent a few days writing it, shared it with some people, and they had some criticisms. some were legitimate, others i disagreed with. but i just couldn’t take it. i like to think i’m good at taking criticism and notes in general, but for some reason it fails with my writing and with this piece in particular. i had to step away from the piece because i took the criticisms too personally. and this is far from the first time that has happened.

i was in a long term relationship for most of college, and i was terrified of this person in a lot of ways. weirdly, the most prevalent was with writing. she considered herself an excellent writer, so early in the relationship i would share essays for class with her. she hated them. without fail, she would virulently critique them, often laying into me as a person in the process. i remember one time towards the end of the relationship i was struggling with a video essay i wanted to write. when i showed her the script, she actually told me that she couldn’t believe i would write something so terrible and asked me what was wrong with me. 

the thing is, i don’t know how to like what I write unless someone else says its good. i took everything she ever threw at me at face value because i survive off of other people’s perception. i’m constantly curious about what other people think, especially when it’s negative. i have a deep need to know what others think of me. i crave knowing what people think my faults are, since my anxiety denies me the ability to accept any compliments. i distinctly remember hanging out with my best friends and asking them what my worst trait was. 

this extends beyond myself - i try to figure out what other people think about everything, then change my own views accordingly. this issue permeates a lot of my life and i have to stop myself from reading reviews before i experience something because i’m so impressionable. the one area i’ve started to change with this is in music, but that’s a new development. currently, my favorite album of all time is Dirty Projectors’ self-titled album (which i talked about here). Before that, it was Jon Bellion’s The Human Condition, until i watched Anthony Fantano’s review, where he lays into the piece. i couldn’t like it anymore. 

people’s perception is so unbelievably important to me, and i don’t know why. i really don’t like this aspect of myself. it has ruined so many things for me, from The Walking Dead to Bioshock Infinite, both of which used to be some of my favorite pieces of media. but other people had criticisms, so i had to hate them. i don’t even know anymore if i find these criticisms legitimate, they’re just so powerful to me. this desire to know what other people feel and think is so deep, i don’t even know where it comes from. but it’s always been there. i was always told i was very “coachable” growing up, which is a kind way of saying that i was malleable enough to be whatever people wanted me to be, a great quality for a child. but i don’t want to be coachable anymore, i want to be me.

i’ve been trying to break that. i don’t want to rely on validation so much, i just want to rely on myself. it’s not easy, but i really have been working on those parts of myself i’m not a big fan of. i’ve spent more time with friends, i’ve tried to trust my art more, i’ve told everyone how great therapy is going (which it is), i’ve tried being single for a while. i’ve done all these things with the goal of becoming more self-reliant, more self-possessed. i want to be in control of my life and the way i feel. 

so when friends struggle with relationship problems or confidence problems, i tell them to do some of the things i did. to try and figure out their priorities, to take time to themselves and live their own life. it can’t be healthy to be so reliant on other people. i often position myself as an expert, having used relationships to avoid dealing with loneliness and self hatred for literal years. i say that i’m so much better now that i’ve given myself time to be alone. i play the role of the healed victim, someone who sounds like they could write one of those shitty self-help books.

but really i’m just so hypocritical. i still dislike a lot about myself. i’m still lazy and unmotivated so much of the time. i get incredibly lonely every night around 11:30 p.m. and have to try to figure out what to do before i can fall asleep. i rely on my friends more than ever, rotating who gets the nightly “hey, how’re you” text that inevitably turns into a conversation about some insecurity or another. i still have periods of deep sadness that are really hard to get through. i constantly worry that i focus on myself too much in conversations, and writing fifteen hundred words about myself definitely doesn’t help that insecurity.

people seem not to know i'm such a contradiction because i’m just constantly performing, putting forth this image of someone who has their shit together. someone who is super happy and making it. i’ve managed to convince people that i’m an extrovert when really i am just so desperate for human connection i’ve forced myself to ignore my anxieties. i’ve done such a good job faking my way through adulthood that some people actually think i know what the fuck i’m doing. i’m just a bundle of contradictions wrapped up in a bag of bones.

i’m even writing this because i want validation. i want someone to tell me this is good because people told me the other one was bad. i want someone to tell me it’s okay that i seek validation, that they do too and it’s just normal. i want someone to say that these things aren’t true, i’m too hard on myself. these desires are so contradictory, but i still want them. even though i know that won’t help. even though i know that if i get all of those, i’ll still be sad late at night. i’ll still panic about everything i create. i’ll still have moments where i hate everything i’ve ever touched, convinced i’ve ruined it all. i’ll still need more validation.