Initially, this post was going to be about how I’ve become more confident over the past few years. It was going to be a fun yet empowering piece detailing how I’ve landed in this magical place of self-confidence thanks to positive female energy and my perfectly-curated ‘bad bitch vibes’ playlist. Naturally, I’d weave in at least a couple of aggressively realist quotes from The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck, and after pressing publish I would definitely feel confident because if I could write about being confident then maybe that would manifest itself into reality, right?
The short answer to that question is, no. While I do stand by a banging Spotify playlist and catching up with the gal pals when in need of a self-confidence boost, in all honesty, I’m very far from reaching that magical place of complete self-assurance and self-confidence. Sure, I have a lot more good days where I feel like a witty, intellectual, glowing goddess, but I still have my fair share of bad days and self-doubt gets in the way of what I want more than it should.
And so, rather than writing an unconvincing ‘how to be confident’ post, I decided to redirect my mid-week musing to the concept of self-acceptance.
I’ll be the first to admit that I am my own harshest critic. I’m a perfectionist, I overanalyse every situation, I view everything as a competition, when I’m about to drift to sleep my brain reminds me of that painfully awkward thing I did in year eight; you get the idea. In my head, self-acceptance has always been a foreign and unrealistic idea to me because I genuinely believed that if I worked hard enough at my appearance, my sense of humour, my grades, or whatever it may be, I could fit into every social situation like a puzzle piece. Nobody could dislike me, or think I wasn’t good enough.
Well, I quickly learned that I was completely and utterly wrong.
It really was just a little bit heartbreaking to come to the realisation that no matter how hard you try, some people just won’t like you and some employers will simply never see your worth. But fighting against the fact you have no control over how other people perceive you is kind of like swimming against a strong current. As hard as you try, you literally get nowhere and then you drown due to exhaustion. Metaphorically, of course.
Unfortunately, recognising this fact and coming to terms with the person you are isn’t as simple as remarking ‘you do you, hun’ and reposting positivity quotes on your Instagram story. Which kind of sucks.
Instead, I think self-acceptance is more of a lifelong journey that we’re all collectively on as flawed, multi-faceted and ever-changing human beings. For me this means learning to accept the control-freak inside of me, being more gentle with myself and celebrating how far I’ve come, because when I look back at my 12-year-old self, firstly I breathe a sigh of relief that my fashion sense has somewhat improved, and then I think to myself, ‘hey, I’ve really changed in a good way since then’. And not just because I no longer wear bootleg jeans with sports trainers.
