Is it Insecurity, or Something Else?

I've never fit in, though I doubt that comes to a surprise to anyone reading this. Chances are that you're here because you know me, personally. Most of the time not fitting in doesn't bother me, but there are moments when I feel relegated to the outside looking in. Alone.

I don't know if this is a side effect of a creative mind, or if it's something else. Nobody ever talks about this sort of thing--at least not with me around.

Here's basically how it goes: I'm with a friend, or in a group of friends. We're laughing and having fun and joking and it's wonderful. Until later. When I'm alone, that tiny voice inside says that my connection to them, my love for them, is stronger than their love for me. That they don't like me as much as they seem to--I'm projecting affection when it isn't there. I'm forgettable. Unnecessary.

Essentially superfluous.

I'm sure if we grab a nutcracker and crack open my psyche, we'd find this stems from issues imprinted upon me as a child. Okay, fine. But knowing where it comes from doesn't necessarily help.

So, that's how I feel. That's my weight to carry. What I don't do is demand, through direct or indirect means, that my friends validate me. That's a choice. I've recognized that I have this insecurity, but I'm not going to be the type of friend who is always so emotionally needy that she drives people away. There's only so much of that a person can handle, and most of us reserve that energy for family. Obviously, this doesn't mean I'm some kind of martyr, or saint. I just feel that everyone likes to know that they are valued. When I have those moments, when someone appreciates my contribution, it has incalculable meaning.

I guess the takeaway here is that we need to be free and genuine with our complements, because you never know how much you may help someone.