Believe in something else besides yourself

I can’t count the times I’ve heard a pop icon or a public figure say, “Just believe in yourself.” A famous person is asked something along the lines of “How did you get to where you are today?” and the response is normally the same: “I believed in myself.” It is said so often that it has become a platitude. But why is it said? And what does it actually mean?

I have tried in my life to believe in myself, in my abilities and self-worth, but I have never succeeded. By success, I mean achieving the sort of self-confidence that is a form of being comfortable in one’s own skin. I imagine this self-confidence stretches over the self and covers over a multitude of insecurities, so that I no longer stare at myself in a mirror with silent loathing, and a fear public speaking because I am afraid of putting myself out there, fear being criticized, etc. To me, this is what we mean when we say we ought to believe in ourselves: Have faith that we are not as embarrassing, dull and imperfect as we think we are. Believe that we have something positive to offer to the world and ourselves.

Isn’t it interesting that such a statement is frequently and publicly made? For it admits that the self naturally does not believe in itself, though it ought to. It reveals a sort of disposition that we struggle with and need to overcome in order to move about and operate in the world — an inclination to feel uneasy about ourselves and about who we truly are. I mentioned that I never succeeded at believing in myself, and this is why: I could never simply will myself to be at ease with myself. Something always felt off. For some reason, I felt that in believing in myself, I would be lying to myself and that I would be consciously overlooking who I was — lonely, lustful, chubby, proud — to try to convince myself that I was who I wanted to be — the opposite of all those things.

A high-school friend once told me that she started every morning in front of her bathroom mirror, where she would speak to herself audibly and say things such as: “You are beautiful, smart, funny,” or “You are worthwhile.” She suggested that I try the same thing to boost my self-esteem. Of course, I never adhered to her advice because I was, and am, the type of insecure person who takes pleasure in wallowing, not overcoming. I think it was good that I did not take her advice, although I know her heart was in the right place. Indeed, I think our culture has a good end in sight, yet the means trouble me. I could sense it then, but I think I can see it more clearly now. If the problem is self-doubt, then how can the solution be found within the self? What good is it to tell a person who struggles to accept himself to simply accept himself? That is like telling a man with a broken leg that if he wants to have his severed bone mended, he needs to simply get up and walk. It ignores the malady and thus ignores the correct treatment.

This is how I see the phrase, “Believe in yourself.” It is an incorrect prescription to a serious illness. Though our culture senses that there is something wrong, and we feel something is broken within ourselves, the belief that the answer lies within the self is nonsensical. Imagine our friend with the broken leg attempting to limp through life, as if his femur were working properly. Shouldn’t he first be told that his leg is broken before he can be treated?

I will explore this question next week.

Scott Stinson is a UF English sophomore. His column appears on Wednesdays. This is part one of a two-part series.