It is probably safe to say that we all deal with an element of insecurity, whether brought on by a relationship that left expectations far too high or a critical self-vantage point that stemmed from reading Teen magazine in high school. Insecurity can be a dangerous thing, as you bear with it the temptation to compare yourself to others or push to justify your own self worth, only to in turn put down those around you. Ironically, insecurity can ravage towards pride rather than blossom into humility. As though the less we think of ourselves, the more desperate we become for affirmation.

Jordan and I snuggled up to the movie “Chef” a couple of nights ago. The storyline resonated with us for a few different reasons, although one moment in particular really struck me. Chef Carl Casper was just berated by a top food-critique, taking any sense of accomplishment he felt in his craft lost. The words of those around him, from his x-wife to his sous chef, all fed into the attempt to heal a wounded, depleting confidence. Just following this devastating review, Chef Casper spent an evening in his restaurant kitchen, creating and concocting beyond the menu, letting his creative juices… and sauces… pour into his work. He eagerly asked two of his kitchen staff, and good friends, to sample what he had just made. They were floored. The food was extraordinary, but even after resounding praise of his work, he kept asking, “Is it good?” “You like it?” They continued to praise his dishes, though he continued to seek out a positive response… as though to be sure their answers wouldn’t change. As though to be sure they weren’t simply being nice, giving him the encouragement they knew he needed while keeping the critical notes tucked away.

Have you found yourself doing that very thing? I know I have. My insecurity is so great, that I am constantly seeking approval. With this new photography endeavor, I am constantly asking Jordan to look at photographs and tell me if they look professional or not. I pull up other photographer’s work, that of which I aspire to, and ask if I am anywhere close, and even photographers work that I am impartial to so as to see if he thinks mine are even just a touch better.  All stemming out of desperation as I deal with this immense burden of mediocrity; This seemingly unshakeable fear that beyond all the niceties and the compliments, I am simply not good enough.

Though the struggle doesn’t stop at photographs. On several occasions, after dinner with friends, interactions with strangers, or even time spent with family, I will turn to Jordan and ask if I was good company. Wondering if what I perceived as myself actually came across as something inauthentic or simply, dull. In certain ways I have been able to pinpoint the experiences that have shaped this fear. In the realm of relationships, I bear the scar of one which was broken; In this new realm of art, the wariness of a life-long pursuit: music. When the crowds were small or the albums not selling, I would wish for someone to simply come out and say it: “Jennifer, you’re not good enough, so stop trying so hard.” I knew that sentiment would shatter me, but it would carry with it a form of relief. To know that I could let the dream go, and begin to accept the fact that I am merely mediocre, rather than pushing forward from behind a lens of disillusionment.

In some ways, that happened. Lucrezio is by no means finished, nor did someone come forward with words to crush my dreams, but it’s simply not the same. Music can’t be what I had once hoped, and in some ways, nor do I want it to be. (So my apologies to those who ever said the words to me “ Don’t forget me when you’re famous.” I feel I may have disappointed you.) Though still – and in so many ways just sad – instead of using this new understanding to take each new endeavor with a healthy and humble approach toward accepting mediocrity, I instead find myself full of fear all over again. Afraid that it would be better for someone to simply say, “Jennifer, you’re not good enough, so stop trying so hard.”   What other life moments am I setting myself up for failure merely out of a growing fear of being “just so-so”? Future friendships? Motherhood? I have a feeling the list could go on…

We fear mediocrity because we were made with purpose. If we fail then our purpose is belittled and our self-worth depleted. Though who are we to say what is failure? And who I am to say what is mediocre, or even discredit that which might be? Were not some made for noble purposes and others for common use? Is not the important piece in all of this the state of your heart? Mediocrity paired with pride is far more damaging and dishonoring than mediocrity paired with humility. So it seems to me we have a choice. We either embrace our low position and let passion resonate through regardless, or we seek out a place of honor to give credit to our self-worth. What do you think?