In the past couple of weeks, I’ve started implementing my company’s social media strategy. Or kicking off our social media campaign. Or entering the world of social media.
I’m not really sure what we’re calling it. I just know that it means I get to do a lot more fun stuff during the day.
It also means that I’ve spent more time on Twitter than normal. And because Blissdom is this week, I’m hearing a lot of conversations about the conference. What to wear, what to pack, how much snow does Nashville really have?
But I’ve noticed other questions, too: Will I fit in? Will I be awkward? Will I embarrass myself?
I’d be lying if I said I don’t have any of those same thoughts flying through my head (along with my packing list, flight agenda and the tax rates for the hotel room I’m sharing), but I’m also relieved to be meeting and sharing that overtaxed room with two good friends.
They may not know this, but I’m assuming that if all else fails (read: I cry in front of a big, famous blogger I adore – again), they’ll still be there.
It’s interesting, this world of blogging – and by that, I guess I mean this world of blogging women. We can be so insecure, so conflicted, so scared, can’t we? And while it’s easy to hide our fears, weaknesses and insecurities behind well-written articles, a witty username and punny post titles, it’s not so easy to be that confident in person.
At least it’s not for me. A good friend asked me yesterday how she could pray for me while I’m gone, and one of my requests (I kept it to four, okay, people? And not a single one included, “Please, God, let me meet Harry Connick, Jr.!”) was to not be awkward.
(I’ll keep you posted on how that works out.)
I especially don’t want to be awkward around “the cool kids.” Because, you know, they’re cool. And I’m not. And I want to be.
Whoa, there! Hold the phone! Chill out! (See, even when I talk to myself, I’m kind of dorky.) It’s just that easy, though, to start down the path of doubt and envy.
“They’re cool. I’m not. I wish I was like her. Or her. Or her.”
I know I’m not alone in this. Between the whispered fears on Twitter (And yes, we all recognize the irony of “whispering” something by broadcasting it on Twitter. Just go with me here.), the panic-laced e-mails (And yes, these may have been mainly coming from me and not to me), and the blog posts I’ve read lately about jealousy, I’m seeing a pretty distinct pattern.
[I started to say “trend,” but Lord knows that even at my most confident, I don’t fancy myself a trendspotter.]
I’ve loved these posts, and I thought you might, too. Posts that say yes, jealousy and insecurity are real, but you know what? We need to get over it. Because odds are, we don’t actually want that other person’s life (or stats or design or whatever) as much as we think we do. And odds are, too, that someone out there looks at us – small, insignificant (in our own eyes), scared us – with the same envy or admiration.
- Rachel Held Evans: On Resenting Anne Jackson
- CJ Darlington: The Comparison Trap
- Penelope Trunk: How to Make Yourself More Likable (or, in my words, Why I Shouldn’t Be Jealous of The Pioneer Woman)
What do you do when you find yourself comparing yourself to others or getting wrapped up in jealousy?
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