AM I GOOD ENOUGH?

Body image

Self-doubt is always close to the surface of my conscious mind, particularly when I am concerned about being judged or laughed at. My sensitive early existence didn’t thrive well in my old country. Where I grew up, humiliation was an almost obligatory cultural rite of passage. Group teasing was standard practice. I was publicly shamed for my look; tick eyebrows, a big nose, long legs, a crooked toe, and the list goes on. Therefore, I felt inadequate; apparently, I wasn't good enough the way I was. That's why I wanted to be different. I constantly compared myself to other people and found reasons to think they were better-looking than me. A never-ending calculation of that sort was incessantly going on in my head.

Painful shyness

Due to my discontent with my physical appearance, and my sensitivity to the insensitive remarks of others, I turned to education as a "saving grace." I liked school and I knew how to achieve good grades. It was easy to boost my confidence that way. This was not the case with girls. I was painfully shy around them and frightened in my thoughts. I envisioned that something I said would be stupid, that I would blush, sweat under my armpits, or stutter as I tried to figure out what to say. I remember a situation where I was walking and talking to a friend, and then we stumbled upon several girls. As my friend was cracking jokes, and the girls were laughing, I was speechless, mute. Afterward, I was upset with myself. By the time everything was over, I had much to say, but it was too late. Maybe next time? On other occasions, it was still the same, even though I thought I was ready. Somehow, I got tongue-tied and limited myself to being a passive spectator of a situation. The worst part was sweating in my palms or underarms. I couldn’t stop it. Consequently, I refrained from shaking hands. The antiperspirants were of little assistance. It even occurred to me that I needed surgery to remove the sweat glands. It shows how desperate I felt.

Self-esteem

It wasn't pleasant to feel anxious, so I tried to avoid feeling this way by using evasive behavior. For instance, I would look elsewhere or avoid eye contact with the person I was interacting with when I felt nervous. I used to cross the street if I didn't want to meet someone I suspected would like to chat with me. About this, I was so unlike my wife. She enjoys interacting with others. On one occasion, she even wrote a blog about our disagreement on this subject. When we were on our morning walk, she wished to stop and speak to our neighbor. I wanted to keep walking. I didn't tell her at the time that my habitual avoidance had manifested itself when I made a comment, "We won't talk to him today," which started our argument.

These trends in my behavior would occur unexpectedly under various circumstances. For example, I remember when my girlfriend and I went to a small theater. We were late and every seat was taken, with the exception of the two seats in the first row. She wanted to go and occupy them, but I stopped her because I thought they were reserved for someone more important than us. My low self-esteem and desire not to be a focus of attention motivated my action in this situation.

This self-worth "business" really bothered me. I couldn't understand why this was happening until I came across the book Good Reasons for Bad Feelings (1). I read that natural selection has led us to enormously worry about what others think of our resources, capabilities and character. We have a tendency to continuously monitor how much others like us. I realized this was the reason why social anxiety is so prevalent. It is the price we have to pay as an entry ticket in the human theater where “all the women are strong, all the men are good-looking, and all the children are above average,” as the saying from Lake Wobegon Days indicates (2). Apparently, the importance of social standing is something extremely relevant to us all, which is humorously expressed by Garrison Keillor in the quotation above.

Risk-avoidance

I was a risk-avoidant individual. Not wanting to be a center of attention was natural to me, which was especially evident in group settings. I would almost never ask questions or make comments. I felt inhibited by fear of appearing stupid. Because of that I was known to be quiet instead of interactive. I was a good listener rather than a participant. As if I was watching others through a glass window, or even better at a safe distance from a balcony on the 6th floor of a building where I lived. I have developed an overactive mind ("living in my head") as a result of my efforts to find out how to prevent embarrassment and negative evaluation by others. Therefore, my authentic self was hidden away, unexpressed in many social circumstances.

I certainly preferred one to one exchange rather than communicating in social circles. I remember having inspiring conversations with my best friend when we were alone. We would talk for hours about music, literature, philosophy, and so on. In social gatherings, I felt sidelined by him, because his narcissistic yearning for attention and admiration would take over. While I was perplexed and angry about this shift in his behavior, I also envied his ability to navigate what to me was a social field full of land mines. To be or not to be, to advance or to withdraw, was the question and dilemma that resonated in my mind while my friend was working the room. No wonder he turned into a politician, and I became an explorer of the mind.

Two versions of me

I wonder if my father’s occupation (military professional) and frequent moves during my early childhood, along with the lack of presence of a larger family around caused me to feel like a “new kid on the block?” I know that's what it was like for my daughter Iva when we came to America when she was eight. Maybe that was the reason that in her teens she was head over heels about the music band New Kids on the Block that achieved stardom at that time. Coincidence? Perhaps, if you believe in one. I think that the band's name was consistent with what she must have felt most of the time in her life because of the frequent relocations and the feeling of non-belonging.

I felt different during long summer breaks at Slavonski Brod, Croatia. Then I was more integrated in the family matrix thanks to the presence of my grandparents, my aunt and her family, and other relatives and cousins. There, I was playful and spontaneous, because I felt well liked and accepted. As a matter of fact, I wanted to live there permanently. Of course, my parents would not allow it, but my desire says a great deal about the dissonance between two versions of my social self. On one side there was me as an insecure, inhibited, prudent, sensitive to rejection, thinking too much about social status self. On the other side, there was me living in the moment, without care in the world, life embracing, and in the "flow" self. I remember that sometimes this exuberant world of euphoria would "overflow" in my ordinary life upon returning from vacation. People who knew my reserved self, felt confused and made comments like, "What's wrong with you?" "Who in the world are you?" "You are too much." These statements and others like them would quickly bring me back to my senses, and I would revert to my usual non-expressive, socially anxious version of me.

Lessons from evolutionary psychology

When I began studying evolutionary psychology, I learned that anxiety about being socially scrutinized is maybe the most common source of anxiety. Human beings evolved in conditions in which they lived in small groups of familiar people. Being a part of a group with a sense of belonging, as well as comparing oneself with others was a highly selected characteristic in hominoid groups. Evolutionary biologists argue that natural selection promotes features and behaviors that increase the survival of organisms until the reproductive age, allow them to successfully mate, and help their offspring grow up (3). Only high-ranking hominids got to mate, so being hypervigilant about social status in the group was the “genes way” to propagate. Community disapproval was one of the greatest threats to survival; the penalty of ostracism was equivalent to a death sentence. Unsurprisingly, anxiety about social evaluation and potential rejection became a common part of human nature.

Alienation

The sense of non-belonging was somehow embedded in my psyche. I envisioned myself as an alien creature, not integral to my family, my people, my country. As if I ended up on this planet like the main character played by David Bowie in the film The Man Who Fell to Earth. I even thought my organs might not look human when you see them on X-rays. I know this sounds very strange, but these were fleeting thoughts, products of my mind that indicate the sense of disconnection I felt with the human world around me. Maybe this was the reason I developed a passion for books and films. In this way, I gained a dual point of view, standing here and there at the same time. The spectator’s role was easy for me, which those activities provided. A safety behavior that was an effective coping strategy for the alienation I felt. At the same time, through books and films, I was inspired, enriched and expanded in my horizons. They helped me to formulate a vision and mission that motivated me to look beyond my immediate surroundings. I projected myself into the imaginary world, the world of possibilities which catapulted me onto a trajectory I would not have otherwise dreamed of.

Integration

Anxiety was a fuel in my search for self-discovery. It was time for me to find out who I really was. I needed to immerse myself deeply in the realm beyond the scope of conditioned responses to social cues. I had to be like a diver in pursuit of the pearl in the tranquility of the ocean of my mind. During that process, I began to see the beauty I was surrounded by. Interestingly, this is exactly what was one of my first experiences in practicing transcendental meditation. The meditation allowed me to awaken a witness part of my consciousness. It taught me to accept without judgement everything that has been revealed. It endowed me with tolerance, compassion and self-love. I was propelled into a never-ending journey through the vastness of the spectrum of rainbow colors that represent the uniqueness and unity that exists in each of us. We are all bound together in the matrix of connectedness when we accept ourselves and others from a position of curiosity, tolerance and understanding. With this insight, I was in a better position to answer the question of who I really was without self-obsession. Since then, I have slowly integrated the contents of my mind by peacefully paying attention to all my experiences with the act of compassion that led me to liberation from the frozen state of suffering.

1. Good Reasons for Bad Feelings, by Randolph M. Nesse, Dutton, 2019

2. Lake Wobegon Days, by Garrison Keillor, Viking, 1985

3. West Meets East: Creating a New Wisdom Tradition, by Ronald Siegel, Psychotherapy networker, September/October 2011