Down the Garden Path: Find your Voice of Value

I had a bad day today. But nothing bad happened, specifically.

If I look at it from the outside, it was a fairly normal day. I got the kids to school, I went to work where I had an easy, steady day, I came home and made supper. Somewhere along the course of the day, however, my thoughts had taken a very bad turn.

It started with a small doubt, a whisper of a voice telling me I am not good enough, telling me that I am unlikable and going to be rejected.

The voice spoke, and I was unable to shake it. It took hold and it snowballed from there. When the day started I felt fine, but by the end of it, I was in a tailspin of self doubt and insecurity. This is certainly not the first time it’s happened, and it certainly won’t be the last.

The problem always starts with those voices inside.

My sense of value has never been strong. I could blame this on a number of reasons. Partly, it could be due to my treatment as a child and within relationships. It could also simply be my personality and how I process what I take in from those around me.

I could blame it also on a number of deep, deep wounds and rejections from the past which are still painful enough, and which affect me enough that it makes my eyes sting with tears if I think too long about them.

But, really, the blame doesn’t matter.

What matters at this point is that my feelings of worth as a person are just not there. There is no tiny seed at the core of myself which says “I am acceptable” on which to grow a foundation of confidence.

The core inside me instead tells me I’m worthless, nothing more. And because that is what I see when I look deep inside, I feel small easily. I fear other people disliking or disapproving of me. That fear is not due to the classic reasons of always thinking I’m right, or that I don’t like having my ego stepped on.

No, I fear dislike because my mind takes it as confirmation that the worthlessness which I see in myself is also noticeable to those around me. It confirms to me that, worthless, is really what I am.

The result is that I protect myself at all costs. It’s instinct. I don’t open up easily and I almost always hold a large piece of myself back even when I have opened up.

I wear a mask of “normalcy” to try to blend in. From the outside in, everything appears almost as it should. But inside me is a whirlwind of voices, all scrambling over each other trying to be the voice that is heard. And not one of them has anything good to say. It comes naturally to me to hold back and wear a mask now.

Today I laughed and joked at work, I chatted with my oldest about a book he’s writing and I helped my youngest with his homework. I read stories and gave cuddles at bedtime. From outside in today, I was no different than any other day. But behind the mask, my spirit was slumped. It was worn down over the course of the day. It had given in, agreeing with the worthlessness after enduring onslaught after onslaught of attacks from the voices. Behind the mask was first turmoil, and then defeat. These are things I have always kept safely out of sight.

It takes great effort, it takes pushing past shaking fear to force myself to be vulnerable.

And so, pushing past that fear, I’ll be vulnerable right now to say I have no sense of self-value. I choose to push past because I’m learning it’s important to speak about the things which make us scared or uncomfortable.

Admitting to a low self worth is not a comfortable thing to do.

It’s raw and it’s human and it ain’t pretty. It’s the ugly cry of admissions. It makes those around you squirm uncomfortably when you speak of it.

Usually, I can almost see underneath the poker-face of the person across from me. They fight back the urge to either roll their eyes or change the subject.

Like they want to escape the conversation, but yet need to hear what I’m going to say next. It’s a car crash conversation.

They don’t want to look, but can’t look away.

As ugly of an admission as it is to make, though, I choose to be open about having no sense of value.

Acknowledging my low self-worth does not mean THAT is the place where I have to come to a full stop.

Instead, it is the beginning of change.

It means I have just turned the key which opens the door onto a path which is pointed in a new direction toward knowing my value. I can choose to walk down it now.

It’s like a garden path, overgrown with greenery. It is not passable yet. Vines and bushes and wild roses crowd in on the path, making it impossible to walk down. Long grass grows between the cobblestones. Gnarled trees overshadow the path, blocking the sun’s warmth. Their roots push up from the garden floor, making the path uneven.

The garden is not beautiful. But I put my hands to the ground now to pull weeds and prune branches. The pungent, fresh smell of cool earth fills my nose as I begin to work, patiently, to clear the way.

No, the path is not beautiful or passable yet, but it will be both one day. For now, I will work steadily. I will slowly make my way down this path to discover the value inside, with each weed I pull and each branch I prune. The sun’s light on my face, filtered through the gnarled trees, and the dirt on my hands will steadily guide me in beginning to see the worth of who I am.

I had a bad day today. But, I plunged my hands in the soil of this new path, today.

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Leila Elizabeth

Always a lover of words, I began reading them at a young age, and began creating with them shortly thereafter.

A bend in the road led me to embrace my introversion, and to discover my identity as a highly sensitive person. As I have moved along the path in learning more about who I am, how to take care of myself as an introvert, and how to handle the challenges of life as an HSP - my love of writing has been rekindled and embraced once again. It intertwines with the journey I am on, and is reflected in what I write.