What makes me, me

For those of you who know me, I don't know your impressions of me. I'm not great at looking at myself with an objective eye. I can seem calm, but that's only due to excessive self-control or pretence due to years of managing an anxiety disorder. I can seem confident, not least due to my taste in clothes (people have recognised me by my colourful leggings), but I'm not really. Above all, I am seen as kind, which I hope is true! However all of that masks an almost complete lack of self-esteem, mainly due to what happened to me at school, from the age of 10 onwards. I think it deserves a post to itself, though I have talked about this before on my blog, some excerpts are included below. However it's telling that the posts I have included my bullying experience in are about belonging, inclusion and the TV programme 13 Reasons Why, for obvious reasons:

Confidence is a big thing for me as I actually have none, I just give good pretence. I masque it in many different ways and actually go to the extreme sometimes trying to show my confidence, which can be a bad thing. I find it difficult to ask for help as I see it as a sign of weakness, but I'm getting better at it. Conversely showing vulnerability is easy for me. It's just on a professional basis, career progression and such, I don't want to show it. It's caused by prolonged childhood bullying, abandonment issues and obviously my mental health issues.

7-year old me, introduced to Sangria

At primary school, a wonderful school; it wasn't their fault, they did all they could, all any school can; at the age of 10, I experienced my first sustained bullying. Up until then, I had a best friend and various groups of friends I hung around with. I went to their birthday parties and I was part of several groups, even the cool kids. I was basically included everywhere, apart from the boys of course! Afterwards, I only really had my best friend and this intense attachment broke our friendship up, but gradually over many years. I don't blame the others, it's the way schools are; one person gets singled out for being different; for me it was my glasses, intelligence and awkwardness; the others join in or don't want to side with the one being picked on as they may get picked on too. I thought I had got away lightly as it was nothing particularly terrible as it was only really name calling and intimidation and nothing physical. But thinking back, I should have realised it was the exclusion that was the worst thing; it's the worst thing about any bullying: the alienation, the loneliness and watching the world from the sidelines.

So where the bully lead, pretty much everyone else followed. They didn't bully me, they just excluded me, stopped inviting me to things, hanging around with me and finally, talking to me, apart from taking advantage of my intelligence to help with schoolwork, which I gladly gave them because at least they were paying attention to me! I was persona non grata. I was invisible. When my parents found out and alerted the school, things got a little better. But the damage to my relationships, forget friendships, with my classmates was irrevocable and they were never the same from thereon in. When we started secondary school, I hoped things would change, but they didn't, even with the bully in the other half of the school, so no chance of any classes with them, found ways to still bully me; everyone moved on.

Who wouldn't want to befriend me..!

That was the thing, the bully was one of my closest friends. I had recently gone to a sleepover round their house and not a group sleepover either. Then suddenly they turned on me. So, it wasn't just the exclusion that was the problem, it was the withdrawal of inclusion. For the rest of my life, throughout my friendships, professional relationships, let alone personal ones, I have always been on tenterhooks, not getting too close for fear of future exclusion.

It was only a year until secondary school, so I handled it by retreating to the library, the one place the bully wouldn't go and therefore find me. It's why libraries are the one place, apart from home and religious buildings, even ruined ones, despite not being religious, where "my soul can rest".

I tried to move on, but I still saw the bully in the halls who'd take any chance they could to pick on me. When others saw, they caught on and it allowed various others to bully me. It was tacit permission to bully. I was bullied for 6 years, non-stop. One constant bully and several others along the way, usually name-calling, taking my stuff, blocking my path, goading and teasing. The usual, for girls anyway. It only once turned physical, but I backed down. I confronted my bully years later over Facebook and she said she didn't realise that what she was doing was having such an impact on me, despite my parents reporting her to the school and them taking action, but anyway. Plus she even bullied my Mum, a 10-year old bullying an adult! One of my bullies apologised, years later of course, and if he didn't become a friend, he at least gave me a lollipop as a peace offering, while he was drunk and at a nightclub. However bullying isn't just about the people involved, the bullies and the victims, it is also about the people who stand by and do nothing; it is not just about what people do, it's about what people don't do. To paraphrase Edmund Burke: bullying prevails when good people do nothing.

When I was bullied, it happened before the age of social media, mobile phones and the internet. I don't know what would have happened to me if I had to go through what I went through now. The teasing and name-calling wouldn't have just happened in the playground, in the classroom and on my way home, it would have come by text message and on social media. Photos would have been taken and shared around. Rumours would have been spread almost instantly. There would have been no escape; I had safe places like the library at school and my home, but now, there is nowhere safe. I honestly don't think I would have made it through.

I've always thought I have low self-esteem and I've always known it stems from the extensive bullying I experienced at school. It's common for those who are and were bullied to think they deserved it. However I know now it's more about the bully than the bullied. You're an easy target because you're different, and I certainly was, even if it's just because you wear glasses, which I did, you're smart, which I am and was clearly so back then, or you weren't into the cool things like make-up, boybands and clothes, which I wasn't and now I'm proud that's the case. I had my whole world turned upside down when I was 10: a girl who I thought I was friends with turned all my other friends, bar one, against me. I became a social pariah and she picked on me constantly, calling me names, goading me, backing me into corners both literally and figuratively. I know now she had a troubled homelife and was probably envious of mine. But I'll never know why for sure and that's what gets to me the most. The school became involved when my parents finally got it out of me, and she backed off, only to start again at secondary school, but I could avoid her more there. Then another bully came along; she was insecure, but popular, a bad combination and wanted to assert her power. The third was a boy, the new boy in school, so it was easy to see why he did it: to fit in. The fourth and fifth together just mocked me for my looks; I didn't care about fashion or make-up, they didn't like that as they were all about being cool. And so it went on.

How unconvincing is that smile?

Knowing that now, that it wasn't really about me, doesn't help the deeply ingrained character traits I struggle with to this day, mainly to do with friendships and relationships. The article linked to below has made me realise how much of an impact it has had on my entire life, but that I've already taken steps to improve it including therapy again, for the fifth time, sixth time if you count hypnotherapy. It's no longer a constant battle in my head, mainly thanks to my self-awareness, DBT spin doctoring and the people closest to me being supportive, patient and understanding. Not all of the article rang true, but if you recognise any of the things I'm about to talk about, you may want to read it: https://psychcentral.com/blog/8-common-patterns-of-low-self-esteem

I learned a lot about my why, due to the bullying I experienced and three of the friends I developed afterwards leaving my school in three success years, plus my best friend drifted away from me the year after that. I didn’t experience secure attachments as a child and now don't expect them. It caused these patterns of behaviour due to low self-esteem and abandonment issues, despite having a stable home life.

Afraid to take risks

I often daydreamed about changing, but I didn’t go much further than that until recently and now I'm taking leaps and bounds, mainly because I now have a place and people I feel I belong with. A lack of self-belief gives me an overwhelming feeling of not being able to cope and over-valuing the opinion of others. My coping skills were doing the job and no more, they kept me firmly in my comfort zone where I'm safe. I still battle with wanting to stay where I feel safe.

You know what happens when you never leave your comfort zone? Life can become mundane and sad, and leaving it becomes scarier and scarier. Yet the longing becomes stronger. You become stuck. I am no longer stuck.

People-pleasing

I say yes too much and care more about other people’s needs than my own. I go out of my way to avoid conflict. I chase people’s approval, wondering if people like me, not taking risks. It feels ordinary, and it protects me from confirming my biggest fear: no one wants me. I protect myself and my time more now, knowing I can say no without fear of pushing people away.

Me on a photoshoot, ironically
when I was least confident

Feeling lucky or grateful

I had niggling thoughts or feelings telling me that I deserve more, but I was comfortable with good enough. I felt a constant longing for more: more love, more fun, more understanding… more. When you don’t value yourself, you believe you don’t deserve more and could never have more. This is where imposter syndrome comes in regarding my professional life. But now I have more and I'm living more in the moment, enjoying it.

Neediness

I have improved on unhealthy patterns when it comes to trying to maintain certain areas of my life. I no longer want things to stay the same. I used to want friends to stay single, for fear they will leave me. That broke up one of the best friendships I ever had. It's why I don't have close friends at all, but with the ones I have made since and will make in the future, I don't and won't feel that way. In these situations, anxiety can be overpowering. I used to be irrational at times: sulky, needy, ignoring, pushing and pulling, anything. I can still take things too personally, get defensive and see change as a form of rejection, and I definitely underestimate my ability to be okay. I am a lot better now, but I still don't know what new situations will trigger this behaviour and anxiety.

Doings things I don’t want to do

I used to behave in ways that are not aligned with my values and who I really am. I have a much stronger sense of self now. I have never hidden my real interests, though I did downplay my geekiness, now I literally have it on show. But I did have to cut out a whole group of friends because I didn't like myself when I was around them. I knew it while I was joining in their activities, and I came away from situations feeling like I have had all my joy sucked out of me. When you don’t appreciate yourself, you don’t consider that people will like you even when you have different interests.

Haunted

Worrying and overthinking things

Sadly I still spend time worrying about what I've said and questioning if I've offended anyone. I dwell on past mistakes even years later. It's a symptom of anxiety, particularly social anxiety. This interrupts tasks that need to be done and steals happiness from my current moment.

I seek reassurance and misinterpret other people’s words and actions, thinking they are upset with me. When you don’t love yourself, you find it hard to believe anyone else does and you hold onto a fear they will leave you. But when you find the right people, the right person, this is no longer such a problem.

Blocking people out easily

I am trying to improve on this as I still avoid letting people get too close. I no longer see the worst in people, judging them, or assuming they will leave soon anyway. I have cut ties before with someone as they said one thing I didn’t like. We were drifting apart anyway and I thought it would be easier and less painful than the slow drawn out death of our friendship. I was wrong. But I still believe what they said was wrong, I just didn't give them a chance to explain and listen to me.

When it comes to friends, if you can break down my wall, you are in. But I was (and sometimes still am) a bit on edge, convinced people will see through me. Convinced they don’t really like me, or I’ve said or will say something to upset them. I think that they think I’m boring, inferior, or selfish.

If a guy liked me, I would run away, literally in one case; I would come away from a date and complain that the smallest thing was wrong, giving me an excuse to stay single. Then you have the guys that didn’t see me. As soon as I got wind that a guy was unavailable, he would become the focus of my attention, anyone available, I would back off, find a reason not to get involved.

Typically, I avoid social gatherings, meeting new people, and second dates. But I find myself jealous of my friends having other friends. If you don’t value yourself, you assume others will not value you, and so rather than risk being hurt, you just don’t let them in.

One of my favourite photos of me ever, mainly for the guy
next to me, but I'm so happy!

I didn't combat these things overnight. I have people in my life that I sometimes resent, but they get me out of my comfort zone. I am less of a hermit, developing friendships and even a relationship. I'm managing the anxiety side of things, though the one guaranteed situation to cause anxiety is dating. With the self-awareness I now have, I don't read too much into decisions and situations anymore.

In finding this post and editing it to finally publish it, I've cut quite a lot out because things have changed, I've moved on in many ways and I've updated it. But I've kept this outdated line:

"I hope to have heathier connections with people in the future. I just have to find some now!"

I have found many more connections since writing this post initially, which I believe was 2021 during the pandemic, mainly because I changed jobs in 2023. They have all been healthy connections, some more healthy than I could have ever imagined possible for me and by me. It's been uplifting to find this post again as it's shown me how far I've come!

Inclusion: a personal revelation about why I'm a librarian

I've been hearing a lot about inclusion lately; the recent UXLibs IV conference in Sheffield has meant it's been a constant feature in my Twitter feed for a week and it's made me more attuned to it. I see it in the anniversary of Grenfell Tower, with the emphasis on community. I see it in many articles about the football World Cup in Russia due to the country's attitude towards LGBTQ people. Obviously, I see it in MeToo and TimesUp. I see it in much of the commentary about a certain president across the water from us. I was woken up to it close to home by the EU referendum, or more aptly the opposite of inclusion: exclusion. However as a middle class white female living in a developed country with free healthcare and education, I thought that I'm in a privileged position. But I haven't always been. It was in reading Christian's blog post of his UXLibs IV keynote, that I realised I haven't always been so privileged, that I have felt exclusion. For a long time in my life I was excluded and it has affected me ever since, in ways I'm just beginning to discover. It has lead me to search for groups, people and institutions that provide that sense of inclusion and community, for better or worse. I have a strong sense of loyalty to people and place. And it's why, even when I have been included, that I haven't felt the full force of that inclusion no matter how welcoming it is, because of the exclusion I felt at an impressionable time in my life. I work in a great library, among great people, in a great School for a great institution in a great city. I've probably been here longer than I should have been because I feel so included here. It was in reading this particular paragraph of Christian's that it hit me:

"I find the concept of belonging very important and very closely related to inclusion. I see belongingness as a fundamental emotional need for human beings to be an accepted member of a group: Could be a family, co-workers, religion, a football team or the UXlibs community. If you tell me you don’t need to belong I say you either a psychopath or a liar. We have a desire to belong and be a significant part of something that is greater than ourselves."
https://christianlauersen.net/2018/06/07/inclusion-and-belonging-in-libraries-and-beyond/

Exclusion and inclusion

One of my key drivers is to include others, to put others before myself and it's why being a librarian is an ideal job for me: libraries are open places, the best librarians are inclusive people and the library community is special to be part of because of their inclusivity.

That's the problem with the librarian stereotype; it's all about exclusion with the shhhing, the rules and the stern woman in a cardigan and haired pulled back into a bun. Librarians are usually the complete opposite; we try to be inclusive as we can get away with and UXLibs IV was designed to help us do that.

Libraries feel like safe places to me: havens and sanctuaries. I can relax in a library, feel at home and importantly be part of something, among my people! It happens when I walk into any library, an immediate sigh of relief. I should have thought about becoming a librarian sooner!

Alone in a library

WARNING: you might want to stop reading here as things get a bit personal from hereon in.

Here's a little history to explain. At primary school, a wonderful school; it wasn't their fault, they did all they could, all any school can; at the age of 10, I experienced my first sustained bullying. Up until then, I had a best friend and various groups of friends I hung around with. I went to their birthday parties and I was part of several groups, even the cool kids. I was basically included everywhere, apart from the boys of course! Afterwards, I only really had my best friend and this intense attachment broke our friendship up, but gradually over many years. I don't blame the others, it's the way schools are; one person gets singled out for being different; for me it was my glasses, intelligence and awkwardness; the others join in. I thought I had got away lightly as it was nothing particularly terrible as it was only really name calling and nothing physical. But thinking back, I should have realised it was the exclusion that was the worst thing; it's the worst thing about any bullying: the alienation, the loneliness and watching the world from the sidelines.

The grip of belonging

So where the bully lead, pretty much everyone else followed. They didn't bully me, they just excluded me, stopped inviting me to things, hanging around with me and finally, talking to me, apart from taking advantage of my intelligence to help with schoolwork, which I gladly gave them because at least they were paying attention to me! I was persona non grata. I was invisible. When my parents found out and alerted the school, things got a little better. But the damage to my relationships, forget friendships, with my classmates was irrevocable and they were never the same since. When we started secondary school, I hoped things would change, but they didn't, even with the bully in the other half of the school, so no chance of any classes with them; everyone had moved on.

That was the thing, the bully was one of my closest friends. I had recently gone to a sleepover round their house and not a group sleepover either. Then suddenly they turned on me. So it wasn't just the exclusion that was the problem, it was the withdrawal of inclusion. So for the rest of my life, throughout my friendships, professional relationships, let alone personal ones, I have always been on tenterhooks, not getting too close for fear of the future exclusion.

Standing out

It was only a year until secondary school, so I handled it by retreating to the library, the one place the bully wouldn't go and therefore find me. It's why libraries are the one place, apart from home and churches, where "my soul can rest".

I tried to move on, but I still saw the bully in the halls who'd take any chance they could to pick on me. When others saw, they caught on and it allowed various others to bully me. It was tacit permission to bully. I didn't help matters; my shyness, introversion and passivity stopped me from sticking up for myself. Friends I made came and went, often literally moving away, which didn't help my sense of abandonment. It wasn't until I was 16 that things got better, when I did my A-levels; I found a new group of friends, potential boyfriend and finally an identity of my own rather than just following what everyone else was doing in a desperate bid to belong, but then the anxiety and panic attacks hit.

Now I'm in the best place with my anxiety, realising the reasons behind my desire to be inclusive and actually using my intense aversion to exclusion for good and in my professional life, that can only be progress. My need to belong though, that is something I'm going to be working on for the rest of my life.