[3] Why I am so hard on myself

To protect me from you.

See, I know what you think of me.

Or at least, I think I know.

It feels like I know.

And it feels like you think

what I think of myself.

And what I think

is kind of awful.

I don’t like myself much.

So I assume you must secretly

not like me too.

And that sooner or later

your not-liking will surface,

and your criticisms

and judgement will hurt.

And that scares me.

So since I don’t want

to wait helplessly

for that hurt to happen,

I bring it on myself.

I judge myself before

you can.

And that hurts too,

but somehow less,

because now I’m not helpless.

I’m actively beating myself up.

And now you can’t surprise me

with your judgment or rejection,

since I’ve already judged

and rejected myself.

I admit, though,

I do wonder sometimes

if I’m wrong about you.

If you don’t see me

the way I see myself.

If maybe you’d be more

understanding,

or forgiving,

or compassionate

towards me than I am.

I wonder.

Maybe someday I’ll risk it.

Risk asking you what you really think.

Not today, though.

Today it still feels much too dangerous.

There, see?

What a coward I am.