The Bottomless Pot

On the plane to Costa Rica, I watched the documentary Stutz which breaks down a session between Jonah Hill and his therapist. They discuss the idea of “the shadow.” A version of yourself that you have a deep hatred for. I first thought of myself at the end of my freshman year of college- fresh off the charming fifteen, slept through and picked over by boys who I felt a worth-determining desire to appeal to when they didn’t even appeal to me. This is a phenomenon I think many freshman girls experience, the animalistic need to be liked without even considering if we ourselves like. Luckily, I have since realized that it is in my power to be the spectator, not the spectacle. However, I can admit, it will probably take me the rest of my life to climb out from under my desire to be chosen. Thank you, dance!  

The movie goes on to explain that ultimately happiness and confidence comes from loving the parts about yourself that you are the most ashamed of, which seems impossible to ask of anyone. “Love your enemy, embrace the unknown, confront discomfort, speak about the unsaid,” things that make most people want to unzip their skin and crawl out of it. 

I’ve been surrounded by the same friends for almost three years who I love and trust, and because of that comfort I felt like I pretty much had a grasp on myself, but that was only in comparison and in contrast to them. When I arrived in Monteverde, I was with complete strangers, taking note of each other fresh out of water. I noticed that I was observing myself from what I thought their perspective of me would be. Imagine meeting yourself today and not knowing anything about your past or why you are the way you are. What would you think? 

From the lens of these freshly peeled eyes, I realized my shadow self isn’t the insecure freshman (I wish I could give her a hug), I think my shadow is a competitive double, that nips at my heels. She needs validation, she is defensive, she can’t take advice, she’s insecure and she weighs me down and bends my back until I’m looking at the floor, ungrateful and self-righteous. I get an acidic reaction that leads to competition when I feel like there is a race to achieve validation from this made-up pot I’ve invented. In my mind, the pot contains a limited supply of opportunities, experiences, and people who can love me. Instead of appreciating dynamic, talented, and smart individuals, when I’m self-conscious, it’s like I kick into survival mode, and have to prove that I’m better than them and if I don’t, everything I want, I will miss out on, and it will confirm that I never deserved it in the first place. I don’t feel this way all the time but when she kicks in, she’s a bitch. 

I want to get to a point in my life where I have such an unwavering positive perception of myself, and trust in the validity and importance of my journey that the nauseating and isolating sensation of feeling threatened becomes a distant recollection of a way I used to feel sometimes.

I have to keep reminding myself that the pot of opportunity is GINORMOUS. Not only is it huge, the specific flavor of pot that interests me (lol) is different than what interests someone else, and racing or competing with anyone is a futile mission. We’re all running different courses anyway. I want to learn from people different than me, and gain inspiration from those I admire while knowing there is only one me, good, bad, and ugly, there will only ever be one me.