Wednesday, March 23, 2022

All the things no one ever taught me (Day 82, Year 2)

I interviewed someone today for a piece I am writing. When I asked my subject to tell me the challenges of her job she said: "Well, it's figuring out how to do all the things I wasn't trained to do." 

And I laughed because earlier in the day I was setting up my kitchen to record a cooking demo with a colleague who was walking me through how to prepare waffles and muffins for babies. As I was doing this, I kept thinking: "WHAT IN THE WORLD AM I DOING? No one taught me how to do this."

And by this,  I mean: cook, write scripts, writing scripts, edit videos and market baby food. 

Outside of my home economics class in the late 20th century and convincing my dad to tell me the secret ingredient in his tomato sauce, no one ever taught me how to cook. I did spend one day with the food editor at Woman's Day magazine when I was an intern (also in late 20th century) and was ordered to use tweezers to move some errant green sprinkles from a snowman's cake nose. 

All this got me thinking: there are so many things we are never taught how to do; but yet we do them--and we even do them well (eventually). 

For the record, I am really good with a pair of tweezers and some cake sprinkles. 

This moment of clarity was truly something I needed. All year I've been struggling more than usual with my insecurities and fears; literally living in agony over my value as a writer, a marketing professional, a mother, a wife, a friend and a woman. I don't know why this is the year that my confidence has been shaken; but there are days when it feels like it is crumbling. 

Sometimes I wonder if I've been so good at bullshitting and selling myself for so long, that it is catching up to me? Like maybe the con has been on myself all along? Maybe I am really not good at much of anything, except pretending to be good at it?

And look, I know this isn't true. However, we've all got those voices that whisper in our ears and nudge at our weak spots. My voice often accuses me of being a big faker--a flim flam man, as my man would say. 

That is something else no one ever taught me: how to rise up and tell that voice to shut the front door and get out of town and keep its trap shut. 

But, I think I can learn--just like I've learned how to do so many things no one ever taught me. I've learned how to navigate premature births, advocate for my children, fight for cures for childhood cancer, write about complicated medical research, live with grief, write my truth, mother three kids, donate organs, navigate comas and brain injuries, manage email marketing campaigns for big companies, grow loofahs in my garden, help my daughter with a musical audition, put together a magic act for my son, teach a yoga class while dressed as Skipper (Barbie's little sister. Trust me no one can teach you this; you have to live it) and so much more. 

No one ever taught me how to do any of that stuff, I had to learn and that friends, is such an accomplishment right? Think of all the things you've had to learn how to do without the proper life training (potty training! parenting teenagers! picking out the perfect pair of jeans! choosing paint colors for your dining room!). All these things add up to huge successes, buckets of wisdoms and tremendous accomplishments. 

When I think of this things that no one ever taught me, that voice whispering "faker," quiets. 

Because you know what in the world I am doing: anything I want. 



No comments:

Post a Comment