It seems I’m trying to do a lot of proving these days. “Bear and endure,” Ovid once wrote. “This sorrow will one day prove to be for your good.”
I wonder if Ovid was trying to lose weight when he wrote that.
It’s not just that, though. I struggle to prove myself every day, no matter the task. I’m trying to prove myself at work. I’m trying to prove to myself that I will run this marathon. I’m trying to prove to myself that, above all, I’m worthy.
And really, it all just comes down to belief.
For a long time – and sometimes it’s a cycle I still indulge in – I looked to other people to prove myself to me. Most of the time, the recipients of my behavior were those whom I was romantically involved. “Do you love me? Do you think I’m pretty? Do you miss me? Do you want me?” and on. and on. and on.
It gets tiresome.
It didn’t matter if they said, “Yes,” “Absolutely,” “Is the Pope Catholic?” or “Eat shit and die.” Because the truth is that no matter what they said – I wasn’t listening. I was still sitting there, looking for them to fix something I was unable to fix myself.
My response was always, “Prove it.”
A difficult – if not impossible – request. I may as well have said, “Climb the Swiss Alps and bring me back an igloo.”
With each passing day, I am making small changes. It may never be something I can write QED after, but if you have to live with yourself, you might as well try to make it a pleasant experience, instead of a tiresome one. :)
Have a good night, everyone. Be kind to yourselves.