“Have you been taking these?”
Sensing there’s not much wiggle room in the matter, I decide to be honest, even though my heart is hammering so loudly I’m sure she can hear it. “Yeah.”
She looks me up and down like I’ve grown two heads. “Why the hell are you taking this stuff? It’s enough caffeine to kill a horse.”
Because I want to fit the mold the world’s made for me.
Because Anita will be disappointed if I don’t.
Because I’m running myself ragged trying to chase after everyone’s vastly different idea of perfection.
Because I need to nail this role and everything that comes along with it, or my career will be dead in the water.
But all I manage to squeak out is, “Because.” And then the tears come.
Jill wastes no time tossing the bottle on the counter and rushing over to me and pulling me into her arms for a fierce hug.
“What’s going on?”
“I wanted an edge,” I sniffle. “There’s so much pressure and I just need to do better,bebetter, be what everyone wants me to be. I thought it might help.”
“What are you basing this off of?” Her eyebrows pinch together in confusion.
“There may have been some online comments.” I scrub my eyes with the back of my hand. “And my agent has been pretty vocal about making sure I meet her expectations... It’s been... a lot. I can’t win. I’m too much and not enough all at once,” I finally admit, looking at her through the tears in my eyes, ready to crumple in on myself.
Jill nods slowly, and I can tell she’s putting some pieces together. “Okay, well, first and foremost, fuck those fuckers.”
I snort, in spite of how shitty I feel.
“You don’t need to change yourself to make other people happy. What matters is how you feel about yourself.”
Nodding along as she talks, my hands swipe the tears from my face. God, I hate crying in front of people. I’ve done way too much of it these last twenty-four hours. I know what she’s saying is true, but knowing and believing are different things.
“So how doyoufeel, Clover?” She asks thoughtfully. It causes me to pause.
I’ve been so consumed with prioritizing and making space for other people’s opinions of me that I haven’t had the chance to actually sit with my own feelings.
“I’m not sure,” I admit. “I feel like I don’t know how to have an opinion on myself that isn’t influenced by what otherpeople say.”
Jill contemplates that, pursing her lips in thought before giving a quick little nod and smile. “Okay then. That’s alright. You start small then.”
“What do you mean?”
“You start with a series of small actions, and hopefully over time it gives you a chance to figure out how you feel on your own, and a chance to see how perfect and wonderful you areas is, and how no matter what changes, you always will be those things.”
“You think it’s possible to get to a place where I really believe that?”
She smiles softly. “I do. I can tell you you’re perfect until I’m blue in the face, but it’s never going to matter unless you feel that way yourself. And ultimately, no one can make it happen for you except you.”
A series of small steps.That sounds doable. I’m so tired of the self-loathing, I need it to end. It’s at the point of desperation now–I’m willing to try just about anything.
“What if I don’t know where to start?” I whisper.
“Surround yourself with people who don’t make you feel like you need to change anything. Ask for help where and when you feel like you can. And you know what the best thing you could do is?”
I incline my head.
“Don’t look at comments. Seriously. You’ll always be too much for someone and not enough for someone else. There’s no way to win for someone else. The only way to win is to be enough for yourself.”
