Somebody** told me recently that I was terrible at analogies. For those that know me, you will also know that I am not great at being told I’m not good at something – especially things that I think I’m brilliant at.
So, I thought and I thought, trying to come up with the most amazing analogy the world has ever seen. I planned on ‘blogging’ it so that the 29 people that read this could share in its glory.
I thought for a very long time and nothing happened. I mentally mapped out how my washing machine could be representative of the principles of Marxism. I compared my shower drain to parenting and considered how a lasagne was just like feminism. And then I had a bit of an epiphany. I am actually terrible at analogies.
Why did that bother me? Why was I expending so much energy to try and disprove this assertion that I was not very good at something? Who cares? Only me, apparently!
But I did care. I’ve always been very self-deprecating and will shout my failings and flaws from the rooftops. But I suppose this time it challenged an idea that I’d always had about myself (that I was good at analogies). I don’t even think it matters what it was that I discovered I was rubbish at, it was that it challenged a firmly rooted self-perception.
And so to my second epiphany. I actually worked out that it’s ok for me to suck at something that I thought I rocked at! Imagine that! I am able to adapt my own perception of myself. Therefore, if I can recognise that I’m no good at something, then surely the opposite is true? Maybe I can adapt my perception the other way also – perhaps I can stop being so hard on myself about what kind of mother, friend, teacher, writer (* insert the latest area of inadequacy) I am.
My point is that we are so quick to believe ill of ourselves in the really important things, despite much evidence to the contrary, but we will argue until we’re blue in the face about how great our bolognese sauce is – even though nobody eats it (I happen to like it salty).
What we need to do, lovely people, is stop sweating the small stuff and start recognising our awesomeness! You see, it’s like when you buy a dress in a shop and you think it looks great, and the dress is your self-perception … I’m kidding… although, that one kind of works!
PS: I am now on a mission to find the most terrible analogy known to mankind. Please be kind enough to forward your contributions on to me. Tweet me, email me, shout them across the staffroom at me. Much obliged.
**A person who also thinks I’m not funny. That’s clearly ridiculous and I will suggest to said person that they seek medical attention for their humour receptors (they’re also a massive smart arse who will totally know the anatomical name for those – some people are so annoying).