By: Jay Trachman
A Family Member writes, “Every morning as I’m waiting for my Malt-O-Meal to solidify I read over back issues of One to One. Doing this tends to get my day started off on the right foot. The day goes especially well if I read an inspirational article: one that reaffirms my belief that I am doing something right. Jay, what I’d like to see is the Ultimate Inspirational Article.”
Oh, I don’t know about “ultimate,” but I do have a little story to tell that may help your coffee perk…
There are certain near-universals among performers and artists. The most widespread, I believe, is insecurity. It appears to be part of what propels us toward our profession: a need for strokes, for outside validation of our worth as people. I think many of us overcome it — mostly — as we mature, but I’ve never met a jock who was both young and secure.
The most visible symptom of this insecurity is the “egotism” we’re so often accused of. Perceptive people realize that our self-centeredness, our bull-headedness, our arrogance mask a person who is trying, sometimes desperately, to convince others — and himself — of our value and importance. Egotism springs, not from a strong ego, but a damaged sense of self.
Don’t ask me why; I don’t know. In my teens I blamed myself. In my twenties I blamed my parents. In my thirties, I realized that “blame” was unimportant, and started learning to accept who I am — and equally important, who I used to be.
I’ll tell you who I was. I was a bright, roly-poly, talkative kid who felt rejected by everybody. Most especially by my peers. They teased me, they whispered behind my back, they invariably chose me last for their team in sports. It hurt. It hurt a whole bunch. I had a few close friends — generally as “weird” as I, but I wanted to be “popular,” accepted by the kids who count.
Somewhere past 30, I began to “grow up.” I lost 90 pounds. I broke out of an unfortunate marriage. I began to realize that I’m good at what I do. Most important of all, I think, is that I stopped whipping myself. I began to make “friends” with that fat, clumsy, unhappy kid. I believe it was a psychologist at a weekend retreat who said to me, “That little boy was only doing the best he could, the best he knew how, under the circumstances.” Moreover, “You have to learn to love who you were, before you can love who you are.”
Later on at that same retreat, we did some “psychodrama.” (Hey, it was the ’70s!) We were to act out the roles in “The Ugly Duckling” and I was chosen to be the duckling. If I can point to a single pivot in my life, that was it. The taunts, the jeers – I’d heard them all, before. But when I discovered my own “swanhood,” I was liberated. We all wept together, from the sheer emotional force of the event.
All those years of self-hatred, of wishing I could be “normal,” of deep loneliness, began to dissolve when I realized that my “uniqueness” was more of a gift than a liability. It didn’t happen overnight; but I began to realize that I’m not only good at what I do — I’m also a very likable guy, when I give others a chance.
Another lesson, which came more slowly, was that I don’t have to “prove” myself constantly. In fact, other people intuitively sense the insecurity of people who do that. I learned it’s okay if not everybody likes you. People have their own problems, and many of them are worse than yours. The world doesn’t revolve around you, but more important, you don’t need it to.
Am I still insecure? Sure — sometimes. But today I know it comes with the territory. I truly believe my brain is “wired” that way. But — the same sensitivity that makes me hurt when others don’t embrace me is also the tool I use for responding to impressions of the world around me — and that’s powerful stuff for any performer to Share.
Give people a chance to like you — on their own terms and at their own paces — and most of them will. Learn to accept and love yourself for who you are, and you’ll not only feel better — others will feel more comfortable around you, too.
These are easy words, I know. You’re not going to stop being insecure today because of an article you read in a prep sheet. But maybe, when you’re ready, you’ll recall these thoughts and they’ll help make the path a tad easier for you.
Jay Trachman is publisher of “One to One,” a weekly information and humor service for broadcasters. Jay can be reached at: phone (559) 448 0700, fax (559) 448 0761, e-mail at 121@att.net, or www.121online.net. Reprinted with permission.
