Tooting My Own Horn

Carolyn Burnham: Uh, who's car is that out front?
Lester Burnham: Mine. 1970 Pontiac Firebird. The car I've always wanted and now I have it. I rule!

- American Beauty

One of the things I've noticed about myself in the last 8-9 months is that I have a really difficult time taking a compliment. Actually, I've known it a lot longer, as most of my friends and family will attest. I usually tend to blush and dismiss whatever has been said about me with a Jon Stewart-esque self depricating remark.

And I know that a lot of that has to do with my low self image. There are a lot of times I have a hard time seeing anything good in myself. I look at myself in the mirror and notice that I'm getting older, my roots are showing, the bags under my eyes are more like matched dark grey Samsonite steamer trunks, my hair really needs a trim (even though it's not fully grown out to where I want it), I'm getting a bit flabby. I see someone who still hasn't decided what she wants to be when she grows up, someone who still spends her weekends alone watching syndicated episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer while tossing back a few Rolling Rocks. I see someone who is just fooling herself with the whole writing thing, a loser who has squandered the best years of her life, a nobody that missed her window of opportunity.

(Sorry. That paragraph wasn't meant to be that long. But that's what happens. I notice one crappy thing about myself, and the floodwalls break and I end up on the couch binging on Girl Scout Cookies thinking I'm a big sucky loser.)

Granted, it's not always like that. There are some days when I just feel particularly good about myself or I'm wearing an outfit that I consider flattering, and I catch a glimpse of myself reflected in a mirror or glass door and just smile to myself. Because, damn, I rock.

I know I'm not alone in the "I look/feel like a big piece of crap" moments, but it's made it harder for me to believe other people when they say something nice to me. Both Rosencrantz and Roger Mexico have pointed this out to me, and I'm slowly but surely trying to fight back, to consciously tell myself how cool I am.

I'm not saying that I'm trying to develop an overblown ego here. But having a normal sized one would be a good thing.

This very problem has been discussed at length on one of the bulletin board systems that I frequent, and a few of the forum members have started threads to post things they like about themselves. I've been reading along, and hearing other people recognize good things within themselves is very empowering. As a result, I've started a bit of a personal ritual: every day, I must find one thing about myself that I like.

After a few days of feeling rather low, I've decided to compile a few of the things on my list and post them to reinforce them in my head. Call it an exercise in self esteem. Some of the items I've listed are silly little things from the shallow end of the ego pool, some are deeper in subject and importance. None of you folks reading have to buy any of this.

(But I do highly recommend this little exercise. I actually took a compliment at my Writers' Group meeting the other night, and didn't crawl under the table in embarassment.)

I like the fact that I'm tall. Lately I've been trying to hold my head up, and stand up just a bit straighter (thanks in part to Rosencrantz's newfound focus upon her posture).

I like the fact that I actually weigh what my driver's license says I weigh, and that I'm comfortable enough in my own skin to not be obsessed with being a size 4.

I like the fact that I've found a hair color that finally suits me and looks relatively natural. After ranging from Bozo orange to entirely-too-dark auburn, it's nice to not have to stand in the hair color aisle trying to figure out which box of chemicals will make me happy for the next month or so.

I like playing aunt to my nieces. I may not be around as much I'd like to be, but when Allison wants to play with Aunt Myo, or when Amanda starts grinning wildly at me, it just melts my heart.

I like the fact that my mom called me yesterday to tell me about how well she did in her Venture Out! program on Friday, and that she taught me not to be afraid of challenges. (Now we know where I got the skydiving thing from, huh?)

I like being able to include family members in my circle of friends.

I like that my hair is starting to reach the point where I can do more with it than wish it would grow out of the "in between" phase. After almost 20 years of wearing my hair short, it's strange to be shopping for scrunchies and headbands for the first time. I feel like I'm playing catch-up, learning how different styles can change my appearance. (I am completely in love with the curl enhancement I'm getting from the gel I'm using right now.)

I like the way that I look in my stretch jeans, as well as a skirt. Because I have nice legs, dammit.

I like the fact that my eyes are an indecisive color. (And today they're green! Yay!)

I like that I still, on occasion, get carded for beer. That UDF clerk had no idea how excited I was when he made me run back to my car to get my ID.

I like the fact that people's cats seem to like me, and that my friends trust me enough with their feline companions to keep an eye on them.

I like the fact that I'm intelligent, and am consistently trying to put my knowledge to the test. I like the fact that I'm always reading, whether it be a book about feminist spirituality or the daily news. I like the fact that I am trying to keep myself more informed of the world around me, through both current events and my own personal experiences.

I like the fact that I am, at heart, eight years old, and have a closet full of clothes from the Warner Bros. Studio Store. It's really hard to take yourself too seriously when you're wearing Looney Toons overalls.

I like the fact that I've been trying to take a bit better care of myself. I've cut back on the coffee and the smoking, and have been habitually making breakfast smoothies (yummy fruit/plain yogurt/soy protein concoctions), as well as taking my vitamins. No more lying to the nurses at my doctor's office about whether I'm getting my RDA of calcium.

I like the fact that I'm learning to knit. I'm nowhere close as good or as fast as Zappagirl, but I think I did a pretty good job on Roger Mexico's Christmas socks.

I like the fact that I am a halfway decent writer when I set my mind to it, whether it be poetry or prose, fiction or non-fiction. Granted, I'm not preparing my Pulitzer acceptance speech just yet, but I've kicked around who I'd want to invite to the party I'm going to throw if I ever get published.

I like the fact that I've been doing things just for me lately, rather than acting the way other people would have me act. Sometimes those people don't have my best interests in mind, and saying no is an important and essential step.

I like the fact that I'm becoming more open with my emotions, and have become more honest with myself and others. (Roger Mexico and I were talking/emailing about this the other night, and a lot of it is due to him. If you're reading out there, thanks for everything.)

I like the fact that I can look downright gorgeous when I want to, that I can feel comfortable and confident dressed up or in jeans and a sweater. I like the fact that I've realized it's not just a matter of makeup or the right label. (Although when I've taken the time to visit the altar of Max Factor, I'm smokin', baby. Oh yeah.)

I like the fact that I am a font of useless pop culture knowledge, and can be a human Entertainment Weekly at times. It's made me the unstoppable force that am when it comes to trivia games. (Some people play too much Diablo. I throw things at the television when Jeopardy! contestants miss easy questions, and I have exhausted the question categories on most volumes of You Don't Know Jack. Fear me.)

I like the fact that I'm finally starting to accept my singing voice, and am trying to work on my stage fright. Even if it is through alcohol driven karaoke renditions of Cowboy Junkies and 10,000 Maniacs songs. (Haven't decided what song is next in my repertoire. I'm still eyeing the Fiona Apple, though.)

I like the fact that I am finally able to not only recognize the things in my life that have held me back, but am finally starting to be able to confront them. Some still send me hiding under the covers, but not as much as they used to.

I like the fact that I have a small group of people around me (both in the real world and the virtual one) that I can call my friends; people who like me for who I am. Thanks to all of you, whether we've met or not.

I like the fact that I am starting to feel secure enough about myself (for the moment, at least) to actually make this list, and make it public. There's no way I would have been able to do this three months ago.

OK. That's all of the self congratulating I can take for now. I can only run around the apartment proclaiming myself to be an amazing sexy self-aware super genius for so long before I start to wonder what my neighbors might think.