I hear you, sister, and I feel your pain. Deep rooted learning of inadequacy has crippled me. I was confident but lacked self esteem. I developed trauma coping behaviours, including the hypervigilance of perfectionism, and I had no idea I did that until the last 12 months. I have busted my arse for everyone else only to find that those people were only prepared to tell me when I was not perfect, never to give a positive response. Rarely has my many skills and talents been acknowledged. At 63, or turning that in a couple weeks, my confidence is shot, having had a nervous breakdown earlier in the year. I do not know what my future holds. I can laugh at myself though, and have always been able to do that. I take what I do seriously but I don't take myself too seriously. I find the older you get there is great wisdom to learn from acknowledging ourselves with kind eyes and not judging through the eyes of someone else, who usually has their own sh*t to deal with. You go learn French, make mistakes and laugh heartily and flying corks bistros and everything else. It is to your credit that you are bothering to learn a language, or whatever challenge we choose to take on in our late middle years. This year I have learned to play the guitar, and can sing and play 2 songs. Next year I will learn 'bar chords' and learn more songs. I have also reacquainted myself with my creativity. Who knows what is ahead. I just came from visiting my 93 year old uncle, who has outlived all his family. I treat him like a king, as he was treated poorly all his life, by my father, their mother, he could possibly be on the autism spectrum except that was not a thing in 1930's Victoria. The joy I see in him, as I do simple things like giving him comfortable bedding and proper supportive shoes, makes up for the anger I am left with toward my reprehensible dead father and his lack of kindness and love, for his brother or myself. But I know my uncle Ron knows he is loved. I have that. I take that seriously, though it is hard because I can find flaws in how long it took me to sort out what his needs are. Anyway, we can only learn how to be kind to ourselves. If that bears any fruit then it flows on to those who love us. We can love us too. Go well into 2024, the French language and the kindness for yourself that I know is well and truly present. With respect and love to you Dr. Debra. Shelley
I hear you, sister, and I feel your pain. Deep rooted learning of inadequacy has crippled me. I was confident but lacked self esteem. I developed trauma coping behaviours, including the hypervigilance of perfectionism, and I had no idea I did that until the last 12 months. I have busted my arse for everyone else only to find that those people were only prepared to tell me when I was not perfect, never to give a positive response. Rarely has my many skills and talents been acknowledged. At 63, or turning that in a couple weeks, my confidence is shot, having had a nervous breakdown earlier in the year. I do not know what my future holds. I can laugh at myself though, and have always been able to do that. I take what I do seriously but I don't take myself too seriously. I find the older you get there is great wisdom to learn from acknowledging ourselves with kind eyes and not judging through the eyes of someone else, who usually has their own sh*t to deal with. You go learn French, make mistakes and laugh heartily and flying corks bistros and everything else. It is to your credit that you are bothering to learn a language, or whatever challenge we choose to take on in our late middle years. This year I have learned to play the guitar, and can sing and play 2 songs. Next year I will learn 'bar chords' and learn more songs. I have also reacquainted myself with my creativity. Who knows what is ahead. I just came from visiting my 93 year old uncle, who has outlived all his family. I treat him like a king, as he was treated poorly all his life, by my father, their mother, he could possibly be on the autism spectrum except that was not a thing in 1930's Victoria. The joy I see in him, as I do simple things like giving him comfortable bedding and proper supportive shoes, makes up for the anger I am left with toward my reprehensible dead father and his lack of kindness and love, for his brother or myself. But I know my uncle Ron knows he is loved. I have that. I take that seriously, though it is hard because I can find flaws in how long it took me to sort out what his needs are. Anyway, we can only learn how to be kind to ourselves. If that bears any fruit then it flows on to those who love us. We can love us too. Go well into 2024, the French language and the kindness for yourself that I know is well and truly present. With respect and love to you Dr. Debra. Shelley