Insecurity.. what?

“Seeing is deceiving, dreaming is believing. Its okay not be okay. Tears don’t mean you’re losing…every body’s bruising..” -Jesse J, ‘Who You Are’

DISCLAIMER: My brain is everywhere… AND, all the spoken from this point on, is unfiltered stating of MY experience, opinion, ‘feeling’ and in some sense, MY conviction. You are welcomed to disagree, comment, agree.. but, you’ve been warned.


Where do I begin… there’s so much that stirs within the depths of my soul, emotions, thoughts when it comes to the subject of “insecurities.” I’ve experienced and well, EXPERIENCE, a present state of being statement, so many complex and indescribable, most importantly, unspoken darkness in this area… where do I begin.. maybe with the book definition and take it from there…


uncertainty or anxiety about oneself; lack of confidence.

As someone who struggles with an eating disorder, this word being used around and towards me time and time again, like many, caused me to somehow relate the word “insecurity” to my body. To whether or not I felt ‘pretty’ or ‘enough’ or ‘beautiful’ or ‘skinny enough’ or ‘fit enough’… the list can go on… yet, it wasn’t too long ago that those limited concepts of the word ‘insecurity’ came to a jolting STOP. Oh how that word was soooooo much more than just defining to a physical perspective of who I thought the mirror was reflecting back at me.
That word, in a nut shell, begins and ends in one question for me… “who am I to me?”
I can go on and on and fit the stereotypical mentality mold that many place, the stigma that is believed within the community that hears the words “eating disorder” and even for someone within the eating disorder community… that says, “they have body image issues’…”she thinks she’s ugly”..etc etc… I can try and fit the mold of what the movies tell you people like me have noted as insecurities… but I wont. THAT definition doesn’t define me.
As someone who has the “gift” and “curse” of disassociation/disconnecting… my body is the LAST, if at all, what I see as my ‘insecurities’ because I feel zero attachment to it. Awkwardly enough.

Again, “who am I, to me?”

For so long in my life’s journey I was so unsure of almost everything. Being raised in a home where ‘stability’ or ‘affirming’ weren’t words to describe it.. where chaos was the very pit and foundation of who we were… where, all I was ‘affirmed’ in was how smart, capable and able I could possibly be.. and that being reinforced by the only time and act of “love” being portrayed was, “who ever gets the best grades will get money, tv, stereo, etc…” and constantly having that be my source of “affection,” because we had an image to uphold and certificates, diplomas and awards enhanced that image….. my SECURITY was divided into two parts… that of intellect(HUGE) and my physical aspect (LARGE).. one I hated and could never connect to or feel like it could or would serve me any good.. because all I had known of it, up to that point, that I could remember, was for harm and not good… but the other, that one I thought I could succeed in, intelligence. That you can fake until you make it because.. well, its not like anyone can look into your brain and see you didn’t know what you claimed to know… and when all else failed, the things with smarts is that, technology can always help you keep up with it… MY THOUGHT PROCESS anyway. There is where, subconsciously, my portrayed image began it’s formation and the moment what defined me was built.
I’ve always had such great dreams of the things I secretly wanted to do. The places I wanted to go, the lives I longed to touch, to impact. The help I wanted to extend to those over looked and overshadowed by something seen more clearly then the complexity of the truth of what was… I wanted to develop into someone who could sit in the conference room with the “greats,” yet sit on the ground sleeves rolled up and ripped jeans, barefoot amongst the “commoners.” Yet up to this point I settled… I settled for only achieving a certain level of education because, beyond this, I might prove to myself and others what I’ve know as truth yet hid so well, I’m really not that smart, at all. I settled for only asking or demanding for ‘this much’ respect because the truth is, someone with my lack of smarts has no right to demand for anything more. I settled for being used to being the ‘help’ because I knew the hidden truth of the LACK of talent of gift I had. I settled for dressing the outside nicely because, everyone ALWAYS judges the book by its cover and so, if the outside looked as if “I can”… then.. I could. I settled and conformed to keeping my dreams as mere illusions of a crazed child because, I could never. I settled to being good at ‘doing’ and never at ‘thinking’ because my ‘intellect’ wasn’t real… I’d just ‘pretended’ really well.

The saddest part of it all was this, that out of the two parts where my security had been founded, the one that kept coming up and the focus of attention was the one I refused to consider and had no connection to. Never mind actually believing it or not believing it. I was ‘secure’ in that area… in my body. You see, I knew my body could get me the things I wanted, I knew my body could get the million compliments and open the doors.. I knew that my body could always have the ability to be the center of attention. I knew my body could get me places, where not even my “intelligence” could. Hell, even job wise, I knew there were some ‘easy’ ‘fast’ and ‘good paying’ jobs I could access because of the ‘looks’ others said I had. However, when I say I “knew” … I mean.. somewhere in my brain it had been engraved in me… that ‘truth.’ because to me, the only thing I ‘knew’ about my physical aspect was how uncomfortable it made me, how disgusting I felt in it at times, how resentful I felt towards it because it gave me unwanted attention; how angry I could feel towards it because I’d look and I had no idea what was staring back. Oh, but how there was a confidence in me that when others looked at me, when others with an eating disorder, others within the other side of the spectrum of anorexia or bulimia looked at me, when the common joes saw me walk down the street or into their offices, they were assured I had a good life and was beaming confidence.. jokes on you… jokes on you, my friend.
To conclude, I end where I began the much that stirs up in every direction, physical being the least weighed, when I hear or experience the word “insecurity”…I am layered in all types of insecurities all mounting up to… I am never enough and I could never live up to the expectations the world may have of me.. most importantly, maybe I’ll never live up to the expectations I have of ME.. of the ME I should me…. how can I though? When there’s a simple question I’m still attempting to answer..

“Who am I, to me?”
“Seeing is deceiving, dreaming is believing..” – Jesse J, ‘Who You are’
What is that word “insecurity” to the world OUTSIDE of my head?.. what does it define for individuals outside of myself?
Leave comment below.. what’s your take on this all?