I remember a part of one of those trips to the Miami Seaquarium quite vividly. I don’t know what grade I was in, or what I wore, or if I packed a Lunchable that day or another favorite, a smushed ham and mayonnaise sandwich. What I do remember is standing in the front row, behind an almost face high plexiglas partition, watching the dolphin show. It was almost unbearably hot, but I was amazed by the trainer’s flailing arms and the way the dolphins responded in their round pool of too-blue water. The lead trainer, the one wearing the microphone, the one with the happy announcer voice, said that they needed a volunteer for the next part of the show. She walked up to the partition and pointed right at me.
“You. Would you like to jump in the water? The dolphin will swim up to you and carry you!”
I thought about it for a second and decided my mother wouldn’t appreciate it if I wet my clothes or my hair, which she always took pains to blow dry.
“No thank you,” I responded meekly.
“But it’s so hot out here!” the announcer continued without missing a beat. “How about you?”
She pointed to a dirty blonde haired classmate of mine, whose name is lost in the folds of my terrible memory.
“I can’t swim,” she said giggling.
Oh.
OH.
I couldn’t swim either! I had just seriously considered jumping into that pool of deep water and I had no idea how to swim. I clearly remember being struck by how dumb I felt that I had not considered my own limitations.
That was childhood, though. I jumped from my bed to my sister’s across the room, because for some reason, I imagined I could ninja-sail and make it. I always wanted an extra large meal, because I felt hungrier than I could ever physically be. I signed up for choir when I couldn’t sing and theater when I was too shy to stand in front of people.
In my last post I set up a list of mostly serious goals for the summer. One of those goals was to read 10 books over the summer. For about half a second, 10 books seemed too small for how much I read, but I swatted that thought away. I let the number 10 swell and grow in my mind until it was settled.
And then I read 3 books in 3 days. (This is Not a Test, Something Like Normal and Shadow and Bone) (all YA, I know. Don't judge me.) (Also, I promise I left my house and did stuff. I just read fast.)
I'd say that clearly, I low-balled myself. I knew that I was, but I did it anyways. I set the bar low.
I do this a lot. So much has changed for the girl standing next to a too-blue dolphin pool who never thought of her limitations. Somehow she became this woman who now thinks of nothing but them.
I'm not sure why I'm so afraid of overestimating myself and why that drives me to underestimate. What would've been the harm in saying I wanted to read a millionty books and not reaching that goal? Instead, I said a safe and somber 10.
Granted, book reading is a harmless thing. I probably should not have jumped in the pool during that field trip. I couldn’t swim and that was the reality. I’m all for reality and self-awareness but I also know that I low-ball.
One of those books I read was about a US Marine and I spent the entire time thinking, “I could not do that.”
Why?
I mean, I know I would never want to do that, but why do I think I can’t?
I constantly talk about not being able to swim. I can’t swim.
Why?
My good friend Nicole is studying abroad in Paris, and I admire her so much for her courage. I always tell her, “I couldn’t do it.”
WHY?
It’s amazing this whole list of things I’ve decide I am not capable of. No discussion necessary, no hope allowed: I can’t.
Somewhere along the line, my obsession with self-awareness has made me constantly underestimate myself. What makes it all sad is that there are some things that I truly can never do and never be.
For example, without the help of my vast collection of affectionately dubbed hooker heels, I’ll never be any taller than five feet. That is a true never. That is a true can't.
I’m not sure why I spend any time making myself smaller than I am.
I’m not sure when I decided I was weak.
I’m not sure why this is sticking with me today.
I just wanted to share. I count myself out sometimes.
I shouldn’t.
13 comments:
"Can't" is a pretty strong word. But once you start using "can" instead, it feels even stronger. I don't remember who told me this, but it's stuck with me for life and sometimes it's totally cool to say you can't (like, you know, being thrown into a pool with a giant animal who could have helped you drown) but once it starts nagging, you feel like shutting the little voice up and change the word to can.
Or something like that. I know you can do anything. Except maybe you can't be a man. Or a dog. But you know what I mean.
It seems like you're tired of underestimating yourself really. Which is almost patently obvious. You should set yourself a real challenge, but one that's also attainable. Say, read 30 books. Something you know you can do, even if you think you can't. Or learn to swim, if you still can't. Maybe breaking down that wall will help you think better of yourself. You should totally have dived in to the pool as a kid though, the dolphin would have saved you :) the point was that the dolphin would dive under and bring you back up. If you were small enough maybe you could have even rode on it.
I'm not awesome or anything, but I generally do what I set out to do, and I generally do more than most people think is reasonable/possible. I just believe that if I want to, I will find a way. What's that old saying, "whether you believe you can or believe you can't, you're right."
I agree with Mark. Just saying.
And lunchables are the bomb. Thanks for bringing me back to the good 'ole days.
I do the same thing all the time. I always underestimate myself, finding myself to lack the internal fortitude to do much of anything. Then... I stop and objectively look at my life. I look at what I've managed to navigate. I didn't always navigate perfectly, but I've managed to become a functional person. I picked up and moved 1,200 miles away from everything I ever knew, and thrived. A weakling couldn't have done that.
I guess that is all a very long way of saying take a step back. That strength you're questioning? It's there. The "can" may be running around in a very well constructed invisibility cloak, but I promise you true it's there.
Why not make a list of things you've always kind of would have liked to do, but always thought you couldn't without having a great reason?
That's amazing that you went to all of those places in elementary school. I think the coolest place I went on a school trip was Camp Potawotami. There aren't many places to go in Indiana, I guess.
I agree with the others, why not create a list and just tick a couple of things off - suddenly "can'ts" will turn into cans!
I tend to do the same thing. When I talk to friends who study abroad, or people with jobs much more difficult than mine, I usually say something along the lines of "God bless you, man/lady. I couldn't do it." But do I really know that if I haven't tried? No. Perhaps you could make it a goal this summer to stop lowballing yourself? Once every two weeks you could force yourself to attempt something that you previously talked yourself out of doing...win, lose, or draw, you'll still be pushing forward.
Never, for any reason, apologize for reading books. Nev. Er.
I think that we all do this to some degree, unless you are one of those overly confident people (who I sort of hate, shhhh, don't tell). I think that I only tend to reach high when it is with something I am sure of, like teaching. But why? As you said, why low-ball ourselves in areas we are not confident in. I think the fear of failure and not measuring up can sometimes lead to this. Your post got me thinking!!
I really loved this post. I think it's so hard sometimes to have faith in your own abilities - but I think the fact that you've recognized that you're lowballing yourself is the first step towards not doing it any longer. :hug:
Oh, hai. I has proper internets again. YAAAAAAY!!!! ANYWAY. I do this all the time too. Except I've been doing this since I was a kid. Hurrah for staying the same over 29 years?? Or something. I should probably work on this. Except for the learning to drive thing. I'm perfectly happy not knowing how to do that *shudder*
Don't worry, I read massive amounts of YA and I don't care!!! But you are not alone. I often think I can't do things and then when I push myself I usually end up surprising myself. I have faith in you girl!
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