I blew my fringe out of my eyeline and glared back in anger (and a little trepidation) through my brows, making sure not to accidentally rub any eyeliner into my eyes.
My Dad finished his intense but concern-filled (and definitely a little homophobic from today’s standards, but we’ve all learned and grown since then, right?) verbal strafing, warning me about the dangers of the big city.
I sat in shock at the graphic nature of what my Dad had been saying but acted like I was unaffected.
I was affected of course… and a lot of what he said made sense and was noted (once you filtered out the bits that were a little uh… uninformed).
He was concerned about my safety and happiness and wanted to make sure I knew I had full control over my own consent. It took me a while to realize that but I did eventually.
My Dad has imparted a lot of wisdom to me over the years but one of his most simple but deceptively lasting pieces of advice was shared as a casual comment.
I had been wallowing in that early 20’s malaise. That point in your life where you’re not sure who you are, what you should do, and who you should do it with. That point of maturity where you’re faced with the realization that when you look at life… it’s all pretty shit really and you’re going to have to make an effort to amplify the happy bits.
I had mustered up the courage to apply for a job. To be honest, I don’t remember what job it was. I think selling insurance. No, seriously.
Side Note: Around the same time I went to the fire hall and spoke to the Fire Chief to ask about applying. He looked me up and down, probably assessing just how flammable the layer of gel and hairspray was on my head, chuckled and said, “No… this isn’t for you.”
Anyway, back to the job interview.
I was trying to feel good about myself (whoever the hell that was) and stir up some self-confidence for the interview.
My Dad, who never encouraged shopping, told me to go buy a new shirt for the interview. I didn’t need a new shirt. My shirts were fine. It wasn’t necessity that made him suggest this.
I asked him why I needed a new shirt and he replied with a piece of advice that has been a life preserver more than once since then…
Never underestimate the power of a new shirt.
And he was right. I got a new shirt and when I put it on I felt a little bit better about myself. A little more confident.
It wasn’t about the shirt. A shirt is just a shirt.
They weren’t hiring the best shirt (and they didn’t hire me either actually, but I didn’t care).
It’s not about retail therapy (though I agree that’s a thing) but rather about paying attention to what might make you like you more. A new shirt, a haircut, whitening your teeth, exercising more, putting on make-up, not putting on make-up, changing how you react to things, learning a new skill… anything that makes you like yourself more is incredibly important.
One of things that it took me a long time to realize is that we sometimes have this image in our heads of an imposter… a fraud. But that’s only because we get to see backstage everyday. We see the forgotten cues, the missteps, and the panic and nerves-induced vomiting before we go on to the stage of everyday life.
That eats away at our self-confidence because we convince ourselves everyone else sees all that behind the scenes stuff as well.
They don’t. They only see the show.
When we make an effort to change something about ourselves for the better, whether needed or not, we get a brief glimpse of who the world sees.
For a short while we can see what our show looks like from the seats.
Knowing what our show looks like and being comfortable with that can make a huge difference in our self-confidence.
So don’t be afraid to invest in you and invest in feeling good about being you.
The return on investment can be huge.
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