Tag: confidence

The Last Laugh

Bailey GunnLeave a comment

You know when you go to the circus, and you go to see the clowns…

Wait, scratch that. No one, and I mean, no one, goes to see the clowns. They are just some unfortunate part of the show that everyone is suffering through. Really, we’re all afraid to anger them in case they fly into a murderous rage, which we all know is as much a part of their act as throwing pies at each other.

Well, let’s just talk about the general idea of clowns. Sure, they’re funny…I guess. They fit in a small car, they shoot water out of their flower lapels, and they honk their noses. But have you ever noticed that clowns don’t tell jokes? Usually, clowns are completely silent, acting out their humor by playing tricks on one another. Or making fun of themselves. That’s right, they use themselves as the target for their own act.

So, are you a clown? Then, why are you making fun of yourself for the benefit of others?

Of course, if you’re anything like me, you just try to use humor as a deflector. You usually try to joke around when things get a little too serious. You like to tickle the elephant in the room instead of ignore it.

And, naturally, you try to poke a little fun at yourself so that other people don’t get there first. You would hate to hear what other people really thought of you, so you try to predict it and say it first. Hey, I’m just saying what everyone else is thinking, right? 

Wrong. You have no idea what people think of you, and to be very honest with you, people don’t think very often. So, you are probably several leagues off base with whatever you are going to say.

But if you still feel like you need to make a good impression, don’t show your hand. If you joke around and tell everyone that you’re a klutz, they suddenly become aware of every clumsy move you make. Why? Because you pointed it out to them, for no reason. And why did you point it out to them? Because you were afraid that they would get the last laugh. So, you took it for yourself.

But have you ever noticed that the only people laughing at the circus is the other clowns? Partially because, as we’ve established, clowns are not funny, so they have to help each other along. But it’s also because people don’t know where all of that self-loathing is bubbling up from. It’s the same idea with you. Why is this perfectly nice person calling herself an idiot? they wonder. They just see you laughing at your own “stupidity,” and they aren’t in on the joke.

So, stop trying to get the last laugh because you’re uncomfortable. Be confident in yourself and remember: you are a person, not a punchline.

Don’t Listen to Anyone

Bailey GunnLeave a comment

Don’t listen to anyone. Ever. Because no matter what they say, they are always going to be right because you believe them.

How so? Let’s think about this for a minute. There are people, right now, in the world, that are making money by telling other people, no, strangers, that they are or, more often, are not good at something. We actually pay and want people to pass judgment on us. I mean, Simon Cowell has millions of dollars right now because he was rude to a couple people. Well, accurately rude, rightly rude. But yes, rude. 

And you have to wonder, as he is looking up at his gold ceiling, lying on his revolving heart-shaped bed at night, does he ever feel bad about it? 

The answer is undoubtedly no. He’s mean, and he gets rich because of it. Simple equation even for a non-math major here.

But let’s imagine a quick little scenario. You’ve been singing your entire life. I mean, since the time that you could hold a microphone. You grow up, learn to play guitar, and moonlight as a solo act in a few bars in your hometown. You’ve got stars in your eyes when you finally get an opportunity to sing in front of the American Idol panel. And then some British guy with a bad haircut says that you’re rubbish and that you shouldn’t quit your day job. And that’s it. POOF. There goes any chance that you’d actually continue singing because there it is. One of the most popular talent coaches in Hollywood just told you that you can’t sing. And of course, if you do sing again, all of the pigeons in NYC will burst in a puff of feathers a la Shrek. 

Except that isn’t the conclusion you should come to at all. Simon Cowell can afford to be mean. But you? You can’t afford to give up your dream, the one you’ve had since you were a child. 

So, what are you supposed to do? Well, you shouldn’t listen to Simon Cowell, for one thing, but, then again, you should never listen to anyone. Once you hear their side of things, suddenly they’re right and you’re wrong. You can make people right just by following their advice, by assuming that they know something that you don’t. But sometimes they aren’t right. Actually, people are wrong a lot. And mostly, they aren’t right about you because, well, you’re the only person who is you. And you know you best. I know, mind blowing.

Yet, people are still told everyday that they can’t do something by someone else, and they believe them. It makes me want to add a footnote to every millionaire’s net worth explaining how many times they doubted themselves or were rejected by the “right” people (who turned out to be the wrong people because look where they are now). The amount of times they failed would outpace their fortune ten times over. I think it is so interesting that people forget and forget and forget how many times J.K. Rowling sent the HP manuscript out or how Stephen King would spear rejection letter after rejection letter on one of those short-order cook nails. Do you honestly realize how many people were told they couldn’t do something time and time again and did it anyway? If anyone was stopped from doing something simply due to the fact that it “could not be done,” we would have nothing to show for modern civilization. I sincerely want to shake really angry, loud maracas at anyone who has ever believed that you can get something right on the first try. So loud would my maracas shake that I could drown everyone’s fear of failure and that little critic’s voice in our heads.

So, in the end, don’t listen to anyone. Not even me. In the end, I should be like a car passing you with my speakers blaring bad 90’s rap. You hear my mix tape (full of Notorious B.I.G.) really clearly when I am directly in front of you, but when I start to speed on down the road, I start to fade. That is how you should perceive all advice. It’s clear and direct in the moment, but what does it sound like down the road? Maybe it doesn’t apply so far ahead in the future. 

That’s where you come in. You start to make decisions for yourself. And you don’t have your ear pressed to the highway, waiting for someone to ride along and tell you what you should do and think. All advice eventually runs out of gas. And when it does, you’ll have to pick up the slack with good, old fashioned intuition when you turn your ignition. 

Dear Warrior Women

Bailey GunnLeave a comment

Dear Warrior Women,

You know who you are. You are the women who have a quiet strength, a silent fortitude. You don’t show weakness, and when your reality is crumbling, you whisper to yourself, “I’ll try again tomorrow.” You are a tumbling sea inside that precariously reaches your toes and rushes back. You are the bluest sky on a halcyon day. You are one of a kind.

You may not be the smallest waist in the room, or the most stylish, or the most put-together. You are a warrior woman, and it’s been a long time since you’ve had time to care about what others thought of you. You’ve been fighting a war, after all. With society, some of the time. But mostly, with yourself. You are on the front lines in more than a metaphorical sense. You are attacked, hated, and fetishized. But now you are fighting back.

You are broad shoulders, you are thunder thighs, you are big-boned, you are full-bodied, you are curvaceous and proud of it. And yet, you are none of these things because they can’t fully define you. Your vessel, your body, is bigger than a size 0 because of all of the spirit and beauty it must contain.

And to all of the petite women, the size 4’s and down, who were not born with big child-bearing hips, or large breasts, or even great height, you are warrior women, too. You fight in the same war with a different weapon.  And when you fall, you represent an important casualty. Because in giving in to the opposition, you are conforming, as well. And that’s not a victory for anyone.

We have all struck ourselves with deafening blows. We all forget our warrior status once in awhile. But there is a way to remember: help others remember.

Remind them that you have filled your cup, and you have drank it all, and you have lived, not vicariously through someone else, but in your own precious skin. Remind them that you have a beer gut from drinking the dregs of life, and that it means you had fun along the way. Remind them that you have a thick, juicy body from letting the juice from so many experiences of your life run down your chin, and that you delight in that fact. Remind them that you have small breasts that allow you to go without the trappings that cage you, and that you live a life so much freer than anyone else because you are happy with them. Remind them that you have the body you have because so did your mother, or your grandmother, or your aunt and you should be honoring them, not being ashamed of them.

Dear warrior women of all shapes and sizes, never forget yourself or your worth.