We have met the enemy, and she is us

[vostoklake]

I have been motivated so long by a sheer horror of the concept that anyone might disapprove of me. The rule was that I could only feel safe if everyone around me was completely uncritical and complimentary at all times. Which meant, of course, that I could never feel safe. The only goal of my whole life was, since no-one could possibly like me, to make all others admire me. Hence the perfectionism, the self-hatred for not being Noam Chomsky, Frank Zappa, Joan of Arc and Luke Skywalker all rolled into one.

This goes along with an overweening pride in my intellect. Not surprising, considering that the constant message all through my childhood was that my intellect was the only thing that wasn't completely foul and wrong about me. Add the two together: I thought it was my destiny to be the great genius who would single-handedly figure out what was wrong with the world and be revered as the Great Teacher by future generations.

The only solution is love; love for myself even if I fail or am despised, love for the world even with its cruelties.