I Don't Know If I've Ever Been Good Enough

One would think I'd be used to rejection by now.  I've had a lot of it in my lifetime, and it seems like I've had quite a lot lately.  A few examples, you ask?  Sure.  The following are examples from the past couple of months.

• After working all night, shopping, cleaning, struggling through church and cooking dinner, my friends text me to cancel.  No reason is given, but I find out later that they went out to dinner instead.  Okay.
• One of the managers at work pulls me into her office to tell me that one of the doctors has requested that I not work with him anymore, because my back is slightly exposed by my sterile gown.  They ordered a larger size, and I need to wear those now.  No problem.  
• I got an e-mail from the University of Utah, telling me that I was not selected for the P.A. Program.  I don't even get an interview.  Oh--and I only get three chances to apply, so this is my first strike.  Eating humble pie, but not wholly unexpected.
• I found out that one of my best friends from high school, who now lives in Florida, was in Logan for her grandmother's funeral.  We made plans to see each other sometime Saturday afternoon, so I took a day-trip (90 miles each way, with Benji in tow) and waited.  After a few hours, she texted me: "We just finished and I'm exhausted.  I think I have to skip. :(  I'm really sorry."  I understand.  No big deal.
• I was assigned to work in OR 18 the other day, with one Dr. W.  He is notoriously picky about who he lets work in his room, and he has sent me away before (supposedly because he doesn't know me, though I have worked with him in the past).  I told the charge nurse that, and she said he didn't really have a choice.  So I gather my supplies and come in the room and start opening my gloves.  He looked up from the OR table and said: 

          Dr. W: "Uh, who is this?"
          Me: "Mary."
          Dr. W: "Who are you here for?"
          {I gestured to Eileen, his first-assistant and girlfriend}
          Dr. W: "Who is the charge nurse?"
          Me: "Stephanie."
          He paused for a few moments, while continuing to work.
          Me: "Is it okay if I scrub in?"
          Dr. W:  "I'm sorry, Mary.  Not right now."
          I knew that was coming.  He is who he is.

These are just a few examples.  Let's not forget the trauma of planning parties to which nobody shows up, having your best friend break up with you because you are too needy, or telling someone you are in love with him, only to have him tell you he's just not interested.  Those are long past, so they shouldn't still hurt, right?  Riiiiight.  You know, I try really hard to be chill, to go with the flow, to not be easily offended.  Well, tonight was the straw that broke the camel's back, and I unleashed a small torrent of bile and vitriol in the form of ugly texts toward my unsuspecting and undeserving sister.  Sarah, I'm truly sorry for the mean things I said.  The way I unloaded on you was completely inappropriate and unfair.  It was a little thing (and we aren't supposed to let the little things bother us, right?), but it just hit me the wrong way.

Sarah asked me if she could use my camera on Saturday.  I asked her why, and she said Savannah had asked her (Sarah) to take her engagement photos.  I offered to, but Sarah said, "She wants really flattering angles and tometimes (sic) you take not so flattering pics of people lol."

The fact that it was a joke to her set me off.  I knew I shouldn't have been offended, but I was.  You know how, when people are angry in cartoons, smoke comes out of their ears?  My ears were red, quite literally.  I could feel it.  So I replied, getting more and more sarcastic and snarky.  I said, "Wow.  Thanks."

Sarah: "No offense.  You like the candid shots but she just wants to make sure it's very flattering.  That's all."
Me: "Kinda hard not to be.  And sure, you can take my camera, even though you've never used a Nikon DSLR before (except mine).  Should work out great for you."
S:  "Wow.  I really wasn't meaning to offend Mary.  She's just nervous about looking big in her photos.  She'd been reading up on plus size photography and asked me to do it so I thought I'd ask.  But really if you're offended then we can do without."  {She then texted me a link to http://plussizephotography.blogspot.com/}
I thought for a few minutes before I sent her this one.  I shouldn't have done it, but for two seconds it felt good.  I said: "I'm sure reading one website and taking 10,000 selfies makes you amply qualified.  No worries.  It's the camera that makes ALL the difference.  Experience is way overrated."

Sarah replied very reasonably, telling me I was choosing to be offended and that she had no idea where this anger was coming from.  I said some things she didn't deserve or need to read, and some of which really weren't true, either.  I did try to come up with an analogy, so that she could understand how I felt.  This is what I should have said: How would you feel if I had a friend who needed counseling, and I sent her to a different social worker because I don't think she would like what you had to say?  I told Sarah she is a great social worker, and she has a lot of experience giving advice and helping people.  She takes pride in that.  Photography isn't my chosen career, but I have been studying and trying to figure it out for several years.  But apparently that doesn't count, because not all of my pictures are flattering.

I then apologized.  I said, "Basically, I'm sorry.  I love you, I love Savannah, and I'm angry at myself for reacting the way I did.  You are welcome to use my camera."

Sarah said: "I'm sorry too.  My approach was less than diplomatic and I should have thought twice about it.  I love you too.  Thanks for the apology.  We're all human and I'm happy to forgive when someone owns it. :-)"

Again, Sarah, I'm sorry.  I shouldn't have been offended.  I should have just let it go, like I have tried to do with all of the aforementioned rejections.  I really do try to keep the peace and avoid confrontation, and to do so, I rarely stand up for myself.  I take it, because it shouldn't be a big deal; I have bigger things to worry about; and if that person really knew me, he or she might think differently.

But what was different about this was that my sister does know me.  She knows that I do put a lot of time and money and effort into my photography, and it became a joke.  Something I work hard at suddenly became worthless, and that hurt.  No, I don't put all of the value of my work on one person's opinion, but for someone who hates herself as much as I do, to have one of very few things I like about myself stripped away by a text message just sucks.

A few weeks ago, I had a good conversation with Peggy over breakfast at Denny's.  She said that I would always find a reason to be unhappy.  Even if Allen were the perfect husband or if Benji wasn't autistic, I would still feel the same way, because I don't love myself.  Because I don't believe that anyone really could love me.  And it's true: I believe I am unloveable.  I know Heavenly Father loves ALL of His children, and maybe He does love me, but I don't know how to feel it.  I don't know how to love my husband, because I don't believe he actually could love me.  There must be something wrong with him if he does.

I really don't know how to feel loved.  Hell--I don't even know how to take a compliment.  I start crying when someone says something nice about me.  So I try to direct the attention away from myself.  I stay behind the lens, so I don't have to be in the picture.  I stay busy with Benji and my shows and my job and my calling and my chores so I don't have to think about the sad state of my tattered, unwanted heart.

I probably shouldn't even publish this post.  Like so many others, it should probably remain in draft form.  This isn't a cry for help, and I'm not looking for validation or anything; I just needed to get this weight off my chest, so tomorrow I can go back to trying to stay afloat.  I just struggle, and writing is therapeutic for me.

Happier stuff next time, I promise.