COLUMN: Looking into the Mirror

From Allison Winn's, "Allison Wonderland," Fall '95 Heidi: "He's a creep but he's a charismatic creep. When I need him, he is aloof. But if I decide to get better and leave him, he's unbelievably attentive?but you see, the problem isn't really him, the problem is me. I could make a better choice. I have an old friend Peter, who I know would be a much better choice. But I keep allowing this guy to account for so much of what I think of myself. I allow him to make me feel valuable. And the bottom line is, I know that's wrong. I would tell any friend of mine that's wrong." --The Heidi Chronicles I looked in the mirror last month and loathed what stood before me. My hair was in place, my clothes immaculate, my skin glowing. I stared at myself until I could no longer see. Then I looked past myself and into my eyes, and there, I found the cause of my loathing. On the outside, I appeared no different than any other day, but upon closer examination, it was obvious that something was drastically wrong. That morning, my eyes cried out to me and told me things that my body and brain had been saying for far too long. I saw the darkness in my eyes, and I understood that I could no longer ignore the pain behind them. So I finally stopped to listen to myself, and when I took the time to listen, I realized that I was not the person that I used to be. Even worse, I did not like the person I had become. How I reached that low point is not important. Why I reached that point is. I was involved in a situation that was destructive, a situation that had changed what I thought of myself and how I valued what I had to offer to others. Like Heidi, I had allowed it to account for so much of what I thought of myself, and the bottom line was, I knew it was was wrong. I would have told any friend of mine that it was wrong. But I couldn't tear myself out of it. It was like an addiction: the lower I sank, the more involved I became. And when the game finally ended, the damage was clear: not in what I said, or how I acted, but through my eyes. Self-esteem. I had always prided myself on being one of the most confident, self-assured people I knew. When I looked in the mirror, I knew now that I was wrong. I no longer trusted myself, I no longer trusted other people. I had allowed a situation to account for my self-worth, to mandate whether I was good or bad, valuable or unworthy. I am the only one that should be able to decide those things about myself. But I had given up a part of myself, and in my sacrifice, had given up the control of making that decision. I watch my friends brush out the wrinkles in their business suits while nervously clutching their attachZs and know that they are doing the same thing that I did. I see hundreds of freshman women huddling outside my sorority's door, and realize that they, too, are relinquishing this control. They are asking others to judge them, and though their asking, making themselves vulnerable to rejection. Once this vulnerability becomes exposed, it sits like a wound on the surface of our being. The cut is easy to make. The healing takes much longer. I know many friends who have placed their self-worth in the firm that they will work for next year. I know many freshman who value themselves by the Greek letters that they will wear at the end of rush. I know many women who determine their importance and identity in the men that they date. It is impossible to go through life and not judge yourself by your accomplishments and failures. However, we too often allow others to determine what our accomplishments or failures should be. We then judge ourselves based on their conclusions, rather than how we would have judged ourselves alone. Rejection, whether by a man, a sorority or a company, will inevitably be difficult to accept. It is the loss of something that you felt should have been yours, a loss that was determined by someone other that yourself. Yet rejection should not be something that should account for what you think of yourself. Dwelling on your failures can only be self-destructive. I am not saying to simply disregard the pain of the loss and pretend that it never happened. But swallow your pride rather than losing it altogether, and when the situation has resolved itself, you will bounce back to the top instead of sinking to the bottom. Everyone, at some point in their lives, is rejected. That is a fact. Just because it happens to you in a situation that you think you will never recover from does not mean that it is indeed fatal. You will recover, and ultimately, you will one day be able to look at the situation objectively and realize that the self-doubt created by the rejection was unjustified. No one, no matter how influential or important, should be able to determine your self-worth. The minute you give this power to another, you lose some of your own value in saying, "I do not even find myself deserving enough to determine my own worth." Rejection happens. Feel lousy and then move past it. Self-doubt happens. Build your walls higher and then rise above it. I stared into my eyes until I knew that I was a good person without anyone else having to tell me so. I picked up the pieces that I thought would be forever shattered and then moved on. I did what I thought could not be done, and that alone taught me more about myself than anyone else could ever determine. Allison Winn is senior history major from Seattle, Wash. Allison Wonderland appears alternate Tuesdays.