The closer it is to December, the greater my fears are. Like I’ve done so little, and I want to be so much, and aging is a curse happening every second. Maybe it’s just because I don’t feel fresh, or I’m full of self-doubt, or I link my self-worth to many external things, or all of the above.

Alain de Botton, in Status Anxiety, calls this one of two great love stories in an adult’s life.

The second—the story of our quest for love from the world—is a more secret and shameful tale.

I’ve chased after it so long ago, and I feel like I’m so short of achieving success. I’m surrounded by so many brilliant people, gems shining brightly and I am dull in comparison.

Maybe today is one of those days.

During a discussion with my manager, she again praises the work I’ve done so far. She is frequent with her compliments (and most people I work with are), but they stick as briefly as Scotch tape on fabric. If I searched my blog with posts about confidence, it would seem like I’ve written about it every year. It’s an issue that I haven’t resolved no matter how much actions I’ve taken after every solo retrospective. “I’m not confident about the direction of my designs…”, I said to my manager. Maybe I was projecting how I felt about myself on the project I was doing. The onus is on me.

Confidence in my work, confidence in myself, confidence in my worth. Maybe it’s because I haven’t worked thrice as hard. I can do more, as others had done more.

I wish I had better things to talk about today, but this moment is one of those days. To continue quoting Alain de Botton,

…this second love story is no less intense than the first, it is no less complicated, important or universal, and its setbacks are no less painful. There is heartbreak here too.

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