Cost of Entry
My mom always made it clear she had complete disdain for everything about me. I was cold and unemotional (because showing emotions got you mocked in our house), my interests were stupid, and she ragged on my fashion sense so much that her favorite insult was “well, that’s very you.”
In response, I became very accomplished at school, seeking any sort of positive feedback from an authority figure. However, my chosen fields of study were never going to make me any money so they weren’t worth anything to her.
According to her, I apparently thought I was “better than everyone else.” As a result, I think I developed a core belief that since I had no intrinsic worth, my only worth was in what I could offer people—knowledge, therapy, favors, food, support.
I’m a chef and I never show up anywhere empty-handed. If I’m invited somewhere or friends agree to come over, chances are I’m bringing something absurdly extravagant with me to “justify” my presence.
Having been in therapy for a while now, I’ve realized that I don’t need to pay a “cost of entry” to socialize with people. I’m invited places because people actually enjoy having me there, not because I’m going to bring a 12-layer cake.
It’s so hard to actually believe that, but it’s been eye-opening to realize how my lack of self-worth has shaped my relationships over the years.
So, for any fellow unloved kids out there: Just because the people who should have loved you didn’t does not make you unlovable. You are worthy intrinsically, and not because of any utility you offer.