I like to believe that I work hard. Read that again. I like to believe that I work hard. I wonder who I’m trying to convince. If I think that I’m a hard worker, why not just say, “I work hard.” I think it’s because I’m scared someone will call me out on it. “No you don’t!” They’ll yell. “I know men that work twice as hard as you do,” they’ll say. I’m sure there are people who put in more hours, more effort, more money than I do. But that doesn’t diminish my effort, does it?
You may think that question is rhetorical because the answer is so obviously a yes. My work and my value are not dependant on the opinion of an imaginary man shouting at me in my head. Believe it or not, but that little man wins some days. I feel like my work isn’t good enough, that I don’t try hard enough, that my value is tied to my performance. Sometimes my masculinity even comes under question in my mind. Men are hard working and successful. On a bad day, what does that make me?
Logically, I know that I work hard, that I care. I can also reason that basing my self worth on my work is foolish and dangerous. But some days logic escapes me. Today is sort of one of those days. I am working hard, waiting for opportunity to call. It’s amazing how each new email I receive sends a spark through my brain. Maybe this is finally it I tell myself. My stomach drops when it’s a pizza promotion.
I know that I work hard, but sometimes it feels like I need to prove it. That’s why I like working on something physical. If I clean my car, really scrub, I can see the stains disappearing before my eyes. The harder I work, the more change I can see. The real world doesn’t always feel like washing my car. I scrub and scrub but that pesky mark just won’t budge. How can I prove to my psychological heckler that I’m a hard worker if I have nothing to show for my elbow grease?
I hope that today isn’t a bad day for you. I hope that you are confident in your ability, in your inherent value as a person and not as a worker. But I also hope that you come back here if you ever do feel hopeless, you aren’t alone. One day we’ll both look at this feeling in the rear view mirror, cars absolutely spotless.