I’ve never been the girl with great self-esteem. I’ve never really exuded confidence in my looks or abilities.
Except in one area.
School.
I’ve always been good at school. I like the studying, the time management required, and the ability to organize, color-code, hole punch, label, and clean edge my way to a perfectly created backpack.
Weird, I know. But, a trip to the office supply store and an afternoon of studying is enough to get me all hot and bothered! Add the smell of new books to the mix and I may very well get arrested for doing something I’m not supposed to in public!
But, I digress.
I’m good at school and it’s the one area where I feel a sense of confidence in my abilities and how I carry myself.
But, what happens when others poke fun at the one thing you feel good about?
I’ve been experiencing that lately. My Type A-ness has been the butt of many jokes.
I was working on a statistics project lately when I attempted to inform my group members of my progress only to have them laugh and joke about the fact that I was working on something not due for many, many weeks. Here’s what you do: you joke with the Type A group member and tell them they didn’t do much on the first project and watch them do all the work on the next ones!
Yes, that was actually said in my presence.
I came to a meeting recently with a folder of information to present on my plans for a term presentation only to be ridiculed for essentially being a goody-goody.
I asked a question about the length of a couple articles only to hear oh, I forgot that someone actually does the readings.
I spent my weekend stressing attempting to finish an essay for one of my classes. My husband was completely on board to help me, tend the babies, or whatever I needed so I could get it done – until he realized it isn’t due until April 14.
Then he laughed at his weird, crazy, obsessed wife.
Now, I have my reasons for wanting to work ahead and get things off my to-do list. Sometimes it’s the fact that I have 3 kids and waiting until the last minute is not an option. Sometimes it’s me planning ahead and trying to tackle several things so I can give a future project my full attention.
My organization and working style might be amusing to others, but when did it become such a joke? Why is it such a joke? Do others even realize the damage they are causing by constantly ripping off the band-aid before the previous wound has had time to heal?
I’m sure it’s partly my fault because I never say anything – confrontation is not my strong suit either. Maybe I’m just an easy target.
But, lately the one thing I usually feel pretty good about is becoming a weight, a tear in my heart. Sure, to others I’m probably overreaching. Just tell them to shove it! Yea, not that easy.
The one bit of true confidence I had in myself is deflating – quickly. And, I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t expect others to change how they do things to accommodate my work style, but is there really a need to constantly make fun? Occasional joking is one thing – this not occasional and it doesn’t feel like joking anymore.
I’m not sure what I expect to be fixed by spewing this here. All I know is I’ve lost quite a bit of sleep lately struggling to understand why my good traits are suddenly worth attacking – especially by adults that should honestly know better.
Now, if you’ll excuse me I must go attend to the 47 pimples that have recently appeared on my face. Maybe they’re from stress or worry. Either way they’re not helping my plight!
