An Alternative to Performance Anxiety (Day 9)

I've talked about Performance before, and hope I made clear it wasn't my original thinking but something I think about a lot. I've lately seen people talk more about Impostor Syndrome. I have suffered from it myself, but I am now starting to think of it more as a flavor of Performance Anxiety. Really, the wonder is that there are people who don't suffer from it.

When European civilizations were dominated by a religious paradigm, the ideal performance was Goodness, because that was how we got into heaven. (The Calvinists and Puritans of New England had thoughts on the matter as well.) Protestants also laid special emphasis on Productivity, which is something that never really went away. As of The Enlightenment, the preferred performance was Happiness, which was seen as a guarantor of Success. And since the 20th century, there has been a growing clamor for the performance of Intelligence, in no small part because it is linked to personal and national Productivity. 

That's a lot right there, but of course that's never been all of it. Many of us also need to perform Beauty and/or Being Sexy, and not just women. All of us up until very recently were also firmly limited in how we performed Gender: you'd better pick a lane, and you'd better stay in it. This is to say nothing of requirements based on (perceived) heritage, and it seems deviating from those brings with it the most damnation [see: White Trash and the Uppity Black Person (I don't want to write or say the alternative words)].

Imagine having to do all those things at the same time--oh, throw in your career, region, family, and religion--without even the alleged respite of code-switching. Impostor Syndrome/Performance Anxiety seems like the outcome to hope for, because otherwise it sounds like something that can lead to madness. (I mean, you try being Happy while doing all of that required reading for Intelligence and stumbling upon horrific facts and phenomenon.)

I never feel like I fit in anywhere--even among fellow outcasts (they can be really snobby sometimes). How could I? How could anyone?

But I can feel moments without the anxiety of having to look over my shoulder that someone is judging me for Doing It Right, and it's not just with my family. It is when I am able to embrace my true, full identity.

I. Am. A. Dork. Once I realized that, once I remind myself of it, the world is a much fuller place.

What is my version of a Dork? Really, you have to think of the venerable Chrissy Snow from Three's Company. I felt like I was looking in a mirror when I watched her: she always missed the mark (after the first season, at least), was the butt of half the jokes, but was perfectly content in her own little world. Same.

Yep, the blonde

I am uncoordinated and was the last one picked for dodge ball, but I am a great dancer because I know how to move my shoulders and hips without bringing everything else with me. I am so awkward in social situations--sometimes even one-on-one--but I try really hard not to torture the other person with uncomfortable silences. My musical tastes change all the time. I'm a dreamy idealist unless I'm a bitter cynic. I'm skeptical of what people say unless it's one of those times where I can trust their intent. I'm impatient, except when I can sit with something or someone for hours at a time. I try my best to do the right thing but screw up enough times that I never can forget my mistakes. 

This is a Dork. It may also be the definition of a Human Being who's not on stage, but if there's no difference, I'll stick with Dork.

Deb in the City