Validation

This was originally a note on my Facebook page but it was so important to me and cathartic to write that I wanted to put it here as well.
Two nights ago I had the epiphany that almost my entire life has been one continuous search for validation. I always knew that I needed a lot of approval from those most important in my life, (and to be honest I've always basked in approval from strangers or casual acquaintances as well.) But it was sitting in a Chinese restaurant with a beautiful woman named Kate (who is one of the best friends I have ever made) that I suddenly had the key to seeing my whole life for what it was. Why this miracle? I've certainly talked about my entire life with my husband many times over and never had a breakthrough to understanding myself like this before. So why now? It's funny, but I think it's because instead of just telling Kate about things I'd been through and wondering if she could know what it was like, as I would with most people, I discovered that I didn't even HAVE to tell Kate most of the time, because she'd had the same personality forming experiences, and had reacted to/taken away the same things from them. It was like she knew me even better than I knew myself. If I could have had the same conversation with myself, I still don't think I would have come to the conclusions I did. It took someone sitting across from me who wasn't me, someone that I respected and looked up to as a person of intelligence, artisticness, (I know that's not a word but I don't know how else to say it) and beauty to make me feel like for the first time, it was really okay to feel the way I feel and be the person I am.
Why the desperate need for validation? Ever since I was little, I craved the approval of my parents, particularly my mother who I felt like I could never entirely please. In my first serious relationship, this need was magnified ten fold, with disastrous consequences. I eventually plunged into depression and found myself questioning everything about myself, and more so than usual. By the time I was 16, any chance I had at self confidence had been shot-by not being able to live up to all of my mother's standards no matter how hard I tried, by kids who had been my friends in elementary school and kids I didn't even know suddenly teasing me mercilessly when I got to middle school (I had one real friend in Middle School. Seriously. God bless you Kari), and finally by friends who gave up on me when I got depressed because it scared them and they didn't want to deal with it, and by a boyfriend who I relied on desperately to define my own self worth, but who wasn't someone I should have still been in a relationship with. I always used to think I was a freak, because there were other kids who never felt the way I did, or who never let the same things bother them, or even happen to them in the first place. Some of them appeared beautiful and talented, and I could see why they didn't have a crisis of self-confidence like I did. But some of them were more like me, nerdy and out of place, and had a much clearer and healthier sense of self than I knew how to develop.
When I met Steve things started to get better. He was always complimenting me, always telling me how wonderful he thought I was, and I could tell that his feelings were genuine and that he wasn't just saying those things to try and get into my pants. After we got married it got even better. Just knowing that one person believed that much in me did so much for my self confidence. I became often bubbly around other people, and thrived in certain groups as a happy conversationalist. But the problems of inadequacy didn't go away entirely. No matter how hard my husband tried, he alone could not entirely restore my self confidence. I was still very nervous in certain groups. Whenever we were with Steve's college friends, I was plunged into uncertainty and uncomfortableness, because I had felt from the get go that they didn't like me, and I can't ever fully believe now that they do. Even with my own friends too, I still go through periodic bouts of doubt, wondering if they really like me, or if they were just humoring me, or just spending time with me because like me they enjoyed the attention from my charismatic husband, who has the ability to make everybody feel special, loved, and included. The jist of it is that I've never really learned how to be sure of myself. Being self-critical is who I am. I'm defined by my lack of self-confidence and it will never go away in its entirety. I may be able to act exciting and interesting at a party, but the entire time I am I'm wondering if people find me annoying or if I'm coming off as obnoxious. I don't doubt my husband's belief in me. But I'll always doubt myself to some extent.
So I find myself constantly reaching out for validation. I went crazy with Facebook because I need that constant human contact so often, need to feel like I have friends. I can tell myself that if people I admire like me, that can't make me all bad.
I've always loved dogs, because they are a source of unconditional love I've never had to doubt. You can always count on a dog to give you validation, and you don't ever have to worry it doesn't secretly dislike you. Dogs don't even know how to be critical, only loving. They're the perfect pet for someone who has no self-confidence. Having Fancy here with me this week has been a blessing-she gives me so much constant approval!
I find myself always expecting the worse outcome because that way it will hopefully stave off the disappointment if it's as bad as I think. And it's hardly ever as bad as I think. But sometimes it's worse than I think, and that makes it all the more difficult for me to have faith in myself.
When I went out to dinner with Kate I was paranoid she wouldn't like me, or that I wouldn't be able to be an interesting enough conversationalist to captivate someone like her who was so smart and savvy. Without my husband, I find it difficult sometimes to be with other people because his charisma isn't transferable, just immitatable. I can only give people what I have, and I don't always have as much as Steve does to give them. My strongest point is my emotions and my empathy, and when I give people everything I have in that respect, I always wonder if it's enough. But what I found with Kate was something I never would have expected in a million years. The person sitting across from me was still the elegant, creative, intelligent person I'd got the impression she was, but she also turned out to be someone who understood me more than anyone I've ever known.
So now I know that I'm desperate for validation. And I know why. But for the first time I don't feel like a freak about it. I just feel happy to be me. Even if I don't think I'm so cool. I finally feel normal. That alone is validation I'd never achieved before.