No, not those kind of voices!
When I was growing up, there wasn't a day I wasn't told I was nasty, ugly and totally unlikeable. It seemed to be on a low level soundtrack to everything I did, and for a very long time, I believed it all. If someone treated me badly, I automatically assumed it was my fault. No matter what I achieved, it wasn't because I had done well or worked hard, it was merely a fluke.
As I've aged, I have learned to ignore the soundtrack, and most of the time I like myself. I had even more or less forgotten where my bad opinion of myself came from.
Until today. My father called to say goodbye to DD, before she left for Germany. DD told her Grampy that she was going to miss me, "because my Mom is so great, and I really wanted her to come with us."
Grampy laughed at her and told her she was nuts. DD was incensed and defended me ferociously. Things got uncomfortable for a moment, and Dad punted, giving the phone to his wife, who is a total sweetheart.
Later, we took my baby and my mother to the airport. I went up to the counter to check them in, and the poor woman behind the counter winced as she picked up my mother's luggage (which I think was filled with rocks). I asked, and she confided that she had wrenched her shoulder and that lifting luggage all day wasn't helping. Because I am a mom, I always have Advil in my purse, and offered her some. The counter agent accepted and was totally grateful.
Afterward, my mother asked my why I offered the woman an Advil. "Was it so she would upgrade us to first class?" she inquired. (I've always gotten _a lot_ of first class upgrades, and my mom always thinks that there's some trick to it.)
Of course not. I offered because I saw a need, not because I want something. Mom was dumbfounded, "But you're not like that!" she blurted out.
DH, DD and I all looked at her like she had three heads. "Actually, I _am_ like that. Despite what you think, I'm a nice person." I answered quietly. DH and DD nodded in agreement, and my mother backed down.
On the ride home, DH and I talked about the encounters with my parents, and how they see me. I've always been cast in the role of nasty bitch, and I refuse to accept that role. I'm not like that, and was probably never like that. Childhood arguments with my siblings were just that, and not some sign that I have a deeply flawed personality.
DH listened to my angst filled ramblings and said, "Think about it. Two people in the world think you're a jerk, and everyone else loves you. Are you going to believe the rest of the world or just those two?"
I concede that it's probably a few more than just two people who think I'm a jerk, but I choose to believe the rest of the world. I think I've finally made those insecure voices to finally shut up. Forever.
Kathy N-V
Obligatory Bead Reference: I'm so glad that you guys coerced and insisted that I start taking pictures of my work. Almost everything I've made recently is in DD's suitcase, on its way to Germany, and I'm so happy I have some record of the things I made. I might even make a few duplicate pieces (gasp!) for myself.