Monkey

Most men I know blame point to women’s insecurity as the reason for, well, any problem in a relationship.

“Why didn’t you call her?” “She just seemed so insecure.”

“Why didn’t you commit to her?” “She was way too insecure.”

“Why did you cheat on her?” “I was sick of her being so insecure.”

These guys act like insecurity is a shirt or a hairstyle, like something you can put on in the morning and take off at night. As if people CHOOSE to be insecure and only have themselves to blame when insecurity impedes their lives. Nobody wants to be insecure; for those of us who are, it sucks. It’s a monkey on your back that impedes almost everything you do. Now there are times that this monkey can be reduced to say, the size of a keychain. These are times when you’re, as the kids say, “feeling yourself.” You’re confident. You feel smart/beautiful/fit/talented, etc. But for some people, like me, it never lasts.

I am one of those people who often comes off as confident and secure initially, but if you get to know me you recognize my insecurity monkey is a gorilla. And he’s heavy and frankly exhausting. If there is one thing that I have learned in my newfound state as a working mother, time is precious and I don’t have the energy for everything I want to do anymore. To quote a George Michael song, I’m trying to “set my monkey free.”

It has occurred to me that the only way to really deal with my insecurities are to, well, address them. Now I recognize that perhaps the monkey may never go away. I recognize that even the most confident woman has an evil monkey hidden deep in her closet. But there are ways that I can make my own personal insecurity monkey, say the size of a tamarin.