Self-Esteem: How Low Can You Go?

Barbara: I met the most lovely young woman the other night. She was stunningly beautiful, but in such a natural way it seemed she never even thought about it: no makeup, long loose hair down to her butt, and comfortable, simple, and as a result sexy clothes and jewelry. But also all the fixings of a real beauty: excellent bone structure, perfect olive skin, and bright intelligent eyes. You coulda knocked me over with a sable makeup brush when she announced a few glasses of wine into the evening that she suffered terribly from low self-esteem.

And as the rest of us women also began to consider self-esteem that night it became clear—and maybe obvious—that this seems to be a universal issue for we women of the first world problems. But why? I know I ask “why” a lot—I’m like that annoying 3-year-old kid who’s just learned the word. But again, it just niggles, doesn’t it? Whhhhhyyyyy?

Okay, so why does it matter that there are more beautiful women out there, thinner ones, or smarter ones? Why do we need to measure ourselves against them—and when we do, why do we consider the comparatives as “shortcomings” and not “differences”? When I was younger, I was always drawn to bitches—and why? Because they made me feel absolutely sure of my place as someone dumber, less sophisticated, and less capable. And mostly because I deemed it so, not because that’s what they out-and-out said to me. Did that sense of my being less-than invade my every waking moment? Not consciously, but I know it manifested in all kinds of ways. I always used to worry that my husband would find someone more attractive and then leave me, devastating my very being. It never occurred to me that if our marriage were to end, it would be because we’d fallen out of love and couldn’t find our way back, and not because of some random, slight, and natural observation that there were, oh my god, yes, some women prettier and smarter than I (again, those bitches I was “attracted to” were also the ones I was most sure would be my marriage-nemeses: naturally Phil would leave me for the opposite of me, right? Naturally I would want them in my life.).

Image (yup, that's me) by Michele.

The thing is, we don’t make our problems better by sassing ourselves and preparing for the worst (i.e.: loss of love). No, that’s how we make our problems. That’s right. We. Make. Our. Problems.

That beauty I met the other night, her self-esteem issues attracted the worst kinds of assholes. And I’m gonna guess that if she were lucky enough to meet Mr. Right, she might actually drive him away by being more wrapped up in how “horrible” she is than in how wonderful he is. I wanted to take her in my arms and tell her how amazing she is and how much she deserves the very best (okay, I did tell her all that, short of taking her in my arms). But the truth is, she is surrounded by numerous people who trumpet her wondrousness. She’s not one of those people who’s alone with no one to love her. But it didn't seem to make a difference to her love of self. In other words, despite every apparent gift and advantage, there are still some issues that have such insidious power … they manage to trump all else.

Hello, low self-esteem. Now fuck off.

I want us to fight back. I want us to tell ourselves how amazing we are. I mean, what have we got to lose? That would be one (more) voice on the planet that’s got it right. And don’t worry about getting all hoity on conceit—conceit has its roots in other problems, namely lack of compassion and dearth of awareness. No, no, self-love is something beautiful and generous and expansive. It swells up your heart and gives it more space to love other people.

I begged that young woman to tell herself every morning how amazing she is until she maybe finally believed it, and suddenly one of our fellow diners shared her story with us: in order to land her dream job, she spent every morning looking at her reflection in the mirror and telling herself she was great and smart and the best one for the job. And you know what? She felt so relaxed and confident by the time she got to her interview that she nailed it. And you know what else? Cutest, sweetest, least conceited person I ever met.

By not looking into that distorted mirror anymore, we free ourselves up to really look outward and see the wonderful world.

Deb: Beautifully said, Barb. This subject continues to amaze and shock me. Not only from the point of view of my own insecurities, but from those whom I deem wonderful and “worthy” of self-love.

Lately when I let thoughts of self-doubt and insecurity take up space in my brain, I say out loud, “Enough. Stop this, poison thought. Get out of my head.” If I do not say it out loud, for some reason it looms large in my psyche all day. So I totally get why the cute sweet gal did that. It works! And some days/weeks I don’t say it once and some days I say it ten times. I think my brain is shocked when I say it and it lays off.

My biggest surprise of late, much like the beautiful insecure stranger you met, was when I read Diane Keaton’s book. Oh my God, she is so insecure. I mean, soooooo insecure. And I thought, Really? YOU are Diane Friggin Keaton! But then I thought, “Yeah, but we see her from the outside and she sees herself from the in.”


Barbara: And here's another look at one of the best expressions of confident self-nurturing. Which, with its amazing spirit, made us all stop and watch and cheer.

Deb And Barb Have A Three-Way

Deb And Barb Have A Three-Way With Angie

Although Angie and Barbara were both actors as well, they only really met during prenatal classes when they were both pregnant with their first children. Finding themselves in adjacent hospital rooms, their children born within one day of each other, just cemented what would become a lifelong friendship. Deb and Angie have known each other and been friends since acting classes in university. Welcome, Angie!

Travelling Spring

Angie: This spring, I got to take two trips alone. Being all by my self, I saw a “me” I’d almost forgotten was there.

The first was a cliché all-inclusive trip to a beautiful beach in Cuba, getting my travelling toes wet in a “safe” environment. Jumping in the warm waves and being waited on softened any edges that had been formed.

Then my well-travelled friend, Monique, wanted to show her best friends where she grew up. So ten of us from all over travelled to Brittany, France this June. I booked a cheap red-eye and hooked up with a friend at the airport in Paris for the train ride to Auray where Monique picked us up for the 20min ride to Carnac. We stayed on the ocean in a place her mother still owns. Yes, it was a dream week! We explored, laughed, and had long meals with the stimulating conversation that wine and cheese brings! Who knew I was so funny?? [Okay, some of it may have had to do with my French pronunciation.] But I lived with a group of people, many I’d never met before, and I got to see myself in a new light. Not as a mom, as a wife, or even as the old predicable friend, just me in this moment and who I’ve turned out to be so far.

Monique's buddies wearing the famous Brittany sailor sweater!  We all bought one at the Carnac Flea Market that day. That's me: the short one in the middle with the big grin! 

 I wasn’t going to leave France without seeing Paris, and as everyone else had to be somewhere else, I had four days to myself in that fabulous city. Armed with a wonderful guide book friends had recommended [Rick Steve’s Paris] and its recommendation to stay in the one-star Hotel Stella [filled with “character”, long winding wooden staircases leading to attic rooms with windows that open to the rooftops of the city, all at 240 Euros for all four nights in Paris? Worthy of a blog entry of its own!] I filled each day with adventure, taking in the visual stimulation, choosing when to engage in conversation and even sharing a glass from that fabulous bottle of red at the table next to mine in that corner café where Hemingway drank. I came home “well fed” in all ways.

One of the oldest restaurants in Paris. Where a glass of red wine was shared with my dining neighbours!

Everyday life goes so fast and so much information comes at us from so many sources. We deal, we compromise, we care, we choose, we discover, so much of our time is spent reacting to so many different circumstances and it gives us so little time to check in with ourselves. I was so lucky to have this time to revisit and rediscover my “me” and enjoy her company.

Barbara: What a wonderful experience, Ang! It always excites me to hear how people find ways to claim their true selves at some point in their lives. It usually takes a real shift in focus to get us into that zone, though, right?

For me, it was definitely following The Artist’s Way (the book). I was so stuck in the everyday at the time (and not in a situation where I could pick up and take off, as much as I would’ve liked that!) and the prescribed Artist Way “duties” of journaling everyday, of doing something out of the norm, entirely for myself, but also simple enough to flout concerns about budget or inconvenience, made me find my true “me” (as you say, Angie) unlike anything I’d ever done before. It was so easy: take a walk in a cemetery, find 5 different leaves, make a collage of aspirations, go to an art gallery, etc, etc. Out of the comfort zone and into the very mild, very nearby unknown.

I relate in a visceral sense to this journey of discovery you made, Angie. I wish it for everybody at some time. I wish it for everybody several times over their lives.

Deb: Ang, I am so glad you have had this special journey because I know what a lover of life you are. Angie regularly had these great parties called "Goddess Parties" where she would invite wonderful interesting gals from different parts of her life and we would eat great food, drink great wine, sing and howl at the moon. It's funny, Ang, but being alone or traveling alone is not something I was comfortable with until the last few years of my life. I would shop alone, but c'mon, who wants people around when a shopping rampage has reared its head? As Barb said, the alone adventures really started for me with The Artist's Way too. I loved my solitary adventures. But they were not nearly as adventurous as yours.

In October, I am going to have an Angie "Lite" adventure. That is to say, I will be with my husband, but he will be working a good deal of the time. We are going to London for two weeks and every day I am going to get up, and go out and explore. I can't wait. Some days I am going to map it out and some days I am just going to wander. You have inspired me, Ang. But I have one question. If I can "find myself" doing this, can I also "lose myself"? Time will tell.

Thanks for a wonderful inspiring blog-post describing your "me, myself and I" trip.

Angela was an actor for most of her working life and now has a company, Scene and Heard, Inc. with her partner, Cheryl. Her company specializes in communication and presentation coaching utilizing the actor's technique for non-actors. Angie lives in a household of males [a lovely husband, two wonderful sons and two adorable male dogs], so she really appreciates reading this fabulous blog by her dear friends, Barb and Deb. She is thrilled to be asked to contribute!