[Noun; ~ Pronunciation: /traw-muh/]
- Definition: Fearing failure is nasty. It weighs heavy because I am a perfectionist, someone who doesn’t allow herself to make mistakes. I am this way because I’ve always felt I wasn’t good enough for anything and needed to show everyone I am. But am I? Will I ever be able to say I am because I believe it?
“All children have to be deceived if they are to grow up without a trauma”
– Kazuo Ishiguro –
Coming Monday, 3pm, I have an intake interview with the people of the life coach course. They will assess my character and mental state (I think) to judge whether or not I am able to join them.
Whether or not I am good enough.
My deepest trauma of all is the fear that I am not good enough. For anything. I don’t think it was the high school bullying alone, but also having to constantly prove myself to two older sisters and facing lots of people who treated me like I was a dumb blonde. Like I have no brains or something, just because I work(ed) in a store. Or because I chose NOT to retaliate.
Not having been able to find a proper job the past year didn’t really help, either. Especially not since the coaching people asked me to send in my résumé…
After twenty-seven years I was finally able to look into a mirror without flinching, without pointing out to myself all the things I don’t like about my own face and body. Even though that’s quite a victory, I’ve been unable still to turn a positive reaction to my reflection into an automatic action.
(Gotta love that sentence, despite its sad truth)
Lately I’ve been asking myself why some people treat me the way they do, or have treated me the way they did (like I am going to stick around for being insulted – no thanks!). Now I know why: buried deep down in my soul, thickly covered under years and years of therapy and self-reflection and building a positive self-image, lies the darkest trauma of my entire being: I am not good enough.
If I am not convinced I am, then why should others?
Can mental scars be so massive, so deep, so… strong they are not fixable? Am I, the person who wants to fix everyone, unable to fix myself? Is my trauma irrevocable?
I thought I was over this, but why am I so scared they won’t accept me as a coach-in-training? Why can’t I just joke about it and say: “Oh well, if they don’t accept me then at least I’ll have money to go to Finland, haha!”
Because I want this more. Because, secretly, I know I am worth this! Because I can do this!
My scars might not have healed yet, but I am only thirty. If it took me twenty-seven years to stop fearing mirrors, maybe by the time I’m sixty I’ll stop fearing intakes and interviews and realise my own worth.
Or maybe I’ll realise it Monday, 3pm.
And if not, at least I’ll have money left to go to Finland.
Yea, I am slowly getting there, alright. To healing my trauma.