Do you remember being 7 years old? I remember, I had just moved to a new school, and I used to pretend that my imaginary pet monkey was waiting on the tree outside, for me to finish school. I used to see him swinging from branch to branch. I had great friends, I loved my life.
Fast forward to being 23 moving to a new country, the only difference being this time my imaginary monkey friend isn’t there to help me cope. So now I’m stuck with the anxiety, self confidence issues and ” adult problems”.
The truth is, being grown up, and wishing we were 7 is because we only remember the highlight reel of our childhood. We don’t remember how tough it was when people found out about your imaginary friend, we don’t remember that girl who used to make us cry, we don’t remember how bad it felt when a grown up said they were disappointed in you. We don’t remember.
I like being older, I like having responsibility, no it isn’t perfect and if I’ve learnt one thing about moving is that my self confidence is either Beyoncé level, or recluse. No in between. I will have days when I literally feel on top of the world, I will great people Italian and walk into gym wearing crop tops. Then there are the misty days…. The days when I can barely see out of the window, I walk out of gym crying, I can’t fathom doing anything productive in the fear that it might not be good enough.
We don’t all have our own imaginary pet monkeys, some of us have monsters under our bed, some people have lions as friends. We can’t compare. I have my wont days when I’ve been on Instagram for 4 hours looking at “perfect” people. The thing is, you are someone’s perfect. Confidence is flaky and It probably will always be, because as humans we search for the bad in ourselves. I recent had a chat with an amazing woman who was battling her own self esteem, something no one else could see, but she felt so tangibly that it was like a monster following her every move. It’s difficult to shake. It’s something that will most likely plague your thoughts daily, it’s something that plagues mine. It’s always there, the questions, sometimes I’m just strong enough to not listen. Society expects a lot from us, something we can’t alway live up to. I’m not talking body size, or beauty, I’m talking emotional confidence.
It takes practice, it takes waking up ever morning looking at your 7 year old self and saying, “you were right” I’m strong enough to do this, I’ve lived passed that. Who says I can’t have an imaginary monkey? Who says I can’t watch him swing from branch to branch?
That’s confidence, that’s looking reality in the eye and saying I get it, but I’m better. I don’t want to be who the little voice in my head is telling me to be, I want to be my 7 year old self.
I want to be confident.
I WILL be confident.