It's true: we are our own harshest critic. We are harder on ourselves than others. I see this in my children. When it comes to self-critique, they can be pretty hard on themselves.
And I am not immune either.
There is a game going around Facebook, where a friend is assigned a number that represents the number of Little Known Facts that person needs to reveal about himself. I have been enjoying reading these revelations from friends, but dare not "like" anything for fear I will be assigned a number.
I don't want to face facts.
I am pretty much a what-you-see-is-what-you-get kind of gal. I am afraid I wouldn't come up with anything remotely worth anyone's time to read.
I would sit and sit and stare dumbly at my computer screen, trying to come up with half a dozen little known trivia about myself that would be of slightest interest to anyone, and end up -- to borrow a great expression from a friend -- crying all over the keyboard.
My fear is: my life is not interesting enough.
Mission trips and movie stardom have yet to be realized.
My fear is: my talents aren't talented enough.
I can juggle; two balls at a time. It impresses the preschoolers, but not many others.
My fear is: my skills aren't good enough.
I can flare my nostrils, but I can't wiggle my ears.
My fear is: I am too vanilla.
There are no exciting secrets with vanilla. No occassional chocolate chunk or caramel swirl to liven things up.
So, I avoid the game.
("Avoidance" and I are on too familiar terms I think.)
I don't mind vanilla.
However I wouldn't complain if someday I fell into a vat of dark chocolate chunks or rainbow sprinkles.
Then I wouldn't have the fear to face the questions, or to share my delicious little nuggets of charisma.
Now where's the ice cream scoop? I'm getting hungry.