Tag: Joan Rivers

You Deserve A New Car

Published on by Scott Williams6 Comments

Justin Bieber

No you don’t. No one “deserves” a new car, or a new house, or much of anything for that matter. If you can afford it, than maybe you have earned a new car. But deserving?

Justin Bieber is in the news again. Lately his attention-seeking, narcissistic behaviour has crossed into the profane, even illegal. I could write books on his mental health issues and I’m sure someone will. This week it was reported that he was videotaped urinating into a mop bucket at a restaurant (indecent exposure?). Once upon a time, not so long ago, I owned a restaurant and know a little about customers who are ignorant, entitled, and unappreciative. Bieber is a train-wreck who, unless he grows into a real boy sometime soon, is surely going to end up like so many who have been given more than they deserve. Singing is not an important skill set. The waiters and chefs at the restaurant he defiled are more talented and harder working. I know people locally who can sing better than he can. Society has deemed that any idiot who can throw a football or is pretty and can yodel in tune deserves millions and millions of unearned dollars. The ‘Bieb’ is just another in a long line of people who have been given the keys to the kingdom without earning it – and therefore does not understand how to live. He is surrounded by fools who pander to his every whim and affirm his ridiculous and pathetic lifestyle. He has no idea that the world is laughing at him and wouldn’t understand if he was told. Wisdom is earned, and he hasn’t paid the price.

Entitlement.

I have a relative who once tried to convince me that, at the age of twenty-one, she “needed” to spent $45,000 on a new SUV. For obvious reasons I chose to disengage from the conversation because you just can’t win an argument with stupid. She had all her excuses nicely rationalized in order to convince herself – it was a safety issue, after all. I feel the same way about parents who are firmly convinced that their nine-year old must have a cell phone; and not only that but a smart phone with a data plan. I try to act all mature, screw on my best psychologist face and ask, “Why do you feel that way?” Slapping clients is strictly frowned upon.

Someone needs to slap Justin Bieber. Entitlement is an insipid evil that crushes potential and leaves people bitter and disillusioned. Often too late in life they discover that they are not, in fact, the center of the universe and no one really gives a damn about them. Usually by this time they have alienated anyone who has truly cared for them and wonder why they cannot find meaning from life. If you don’t believe me just google bad plastic surgeries and you will be met with a morbid, albeit disturbing array of celebrities and wannabes who cannot deal with the fact that they are no longer the center of attention. Joan Rivers is looking scary, Klingon-ish. John Travolta looks like he is wearing a mask. The list goes on and on. Beauty is fleeting, they say, and basing your self-esteem on your outside is a surefire road to unhappiness. I know this because I have looked in the mirror. Chances are you know what I am talking about.

My son bought me a poster of Winston Churchill for my office. He is arguably one of the greatest men in history… and wow he’s ugly. He really does look like an English Bulldog. When I look at Winnie I am reminded that beauty is only skin deep but stupid goes right to the bone. Maybe you should take that money you were going to spend on French nails and purchase an audiobook on psychology, or Nietzsche, or Theology. I know Justin Bieber, with all his money, probably won’t.

I bet he doesn’t even know how to spell filosophy.

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I’m Disappointed In You

Published on by Scott Williams14 Comments

Have you ever had someone in your life who seemed constantly disappointed in you? It didn’t seem to matter how hard you tried, it was never enough. Sometimes they didn’t have to even say much, you just knew – you are a loser, you will never be worthy.

I know what it is like to live with disappointment. It was a glib smile and a few words, a gentle sigh. I failed again. In my particular case it made me needy, so very needy. Dedicating every waking minute to impress, to please, to do, didn’t seem to matter. Disappointed again.

Maybe it was your dad, or your mom, a relative or a friend. For many of us it was our spouse – a wife or a boyfriend whose expectations and selfishness bruised and ultimately scarred your heart.

Poor self-esteem. Bad self-image. Feelings of inadequacy. Second-guessing yourself. Minimizing your accomplishments. Squinting in the mirror. Fear. Doubt. Self-loathing. Pain. Never good enough. Loser. Pathetic. Bitch.

On some level we all know that it is our own responsibility to feel good about ourselves. In theory. In practice, when someone whose opinion is supposed to matter denigrates and often subtly destroys our wholeness, it is very difficult to feel worthwhile. We know we are not supposed to base our self-esteem on others but how do you do that?

Quick quiz – If ten people tell you that you are beautiful and one person tells you that you are ugly, which one will you remember?

I wonder if the reason we believe the insult is because somewhere, down deep perhaps, we believe them. Many of us have been told we are ugly or fat or stupid or bald or pathetic or worthless all our lives. How can we possibly have good self-esteem now?

The truth: The opposite of bad self-esteem is not good self-esteem. The opposite of bad self-esteem is self-acceptance.

The truth is, you may always be fat. You may always be bald. Joan Rivers is scary proof that plastic surgery can only take you so far. You may be considered ugly by the beautiful. You may never go to college. You probably will never be famous. Or rich. Or even successful. And you get cry all you want and rail against the system, get angry and frustrated and die in a flaming manure-ball of bitterness. I see people every day who absolutely refuse to accept their illness, or their spouse, or their saggy boobs. I know how they feel. There are seemingly countless things I don’t like about myself. Nobody needs to point our my flaws, I see them in glaring technicolor. You don’t need to be disappointed in me, I can do quite fine on my own, thanks.

One day I woke up and realized in retrospect that I was living my life to impress someone who was incapable of accepting me or loving me for who I really was. I understood that I had been running myself sick trying to earn her love, only to hear her sigh with disapproval. I still care about this person, actually very much, but no longer feel compelled to sacrifice my soul for a smile and a nod.

Emotional wholeness rarely comes by accident.

Working Out

Published on by Scott Williams5 Comments

“It is amazing how complete is the delusion that beauty is goodness.”
― Leo Tolstoy

I have written in the past about my attempts to become a body-builder when I was in my early twenties. To make a long and boring story short I worked out like a bomb for almost two years and looked virtually the same as when I started. It didn’t help that every wall was a floor to ceiling mirror. I tried everything – eating emasculated chicken, dieting, water pills, and supplements guaranteed to pump me up like a helium balloon. Apparently the patented molecules had never encountered anything like my bird-like metabolism before, for after two months of drinking that vial sludge after every meal, all I could show for my efforts was that I had apparently lost the ability to have a bowel movement. That made me gain weight but not the kind of weight that I was going for.

There is no end to what some of us will go to in order to look good on the outside. And I’m not here to do a social commentary on makeup and Lululemons and Helly Hansen. Don’t really care about slamming you for how you dress or how much you spend on lipstick and stuff. I may never truly understand how that eyelash medieval torture device works but I support your right to attempt to use it without pinching your eyeball.

But here’s the deal. There is no end to what some of us will go to in order to look good on the outside. It’s no big deal when you’re talking about what kind of boxers you buy to wear outside your shorts. It’s a big deal when it leads to pride and elitism. It’s problematic when it defines how we feel about ourself. It’s horrific when it leads us to do anything in an attempt to fit in.

Defining ourselves by what we see in the mirror has been rammed into us by the stick-figured girls in the media who still manage to pull off a six-pack with their Botox and fake breasts. Men photoshopped into perfect thousand dollar suits and new cars with a brainless bimbo on each arm. Culture tells us that this is success, that this is beauty. Those of us with stretch marks or bellies, with poor cheek bones and weak chins will never measure up. If you don’t believe me take a look at Travolta or Shatner or Elton John or Joan Rivers. They have mutilated their hair lines and faces just to pretend to not be aging. They are paying thousands of dollars to fight a fight they cannot win.

We are all getting old. Deal with it.

Apparently a man’s nose grows his whole life. So do his ears. At some point I’m going to look like Dumbo. Not much I can do about it.

I am listening to the audiobook, “The Game”. It’s a textbook for pickup artists teaching them how to get any woman – the things to say, the ways to act. I have no intention of using this material, I use it to warn women that they are targets. The book is replete with tactics including how to make the desired mark feel worse about herself, how to separate her from her friends, how to ignore her until she begs for your attention. I wrote about some of this in the article, “How To Pick Up Vulnerable Women In Their Twenties”. At the time I used my oldest son as a consultant and now I’m a little freaked out how much he knew without ever knowing this book exists.

The point I am trying to make is that the system for belonging, for finding love, for feeling valued, is largely screwed up. We lie when we date, seeking to put our best foot forward. We look for love in all the wrong places. We think love can be found at a bar. We judge each other by what we look like. It’s all a game, a psychologically damaging contest that dismisses the best of us, the brightest, the kindest, the most worthwhile… the unbeautiful.

I am conscious that for many of us, we have struggled our entire life to fit in and feel good about how we look and who we are. We have never been satisfied by the look of our shell. Here’s the bad news.

You probably never will be.

Ever.

The opposite of bad self-esteem is not good self-esteem. The opposite of bad self-esteem is self-acceptance. Esteem follows acceptance, not the other way around.

These are your cards. You can diet, eat right, work out, take bowel-clenching supplements, but that won’t change how you feel about you on the deepest levels. If you don’t believe me ask a skinny person. We are a generation with low self-esteem and insecurity. It is a plague that is propagated every day, every time we turn on a computer or a television.

You will never be able to compete with Photoshop. Maybe it’s time to stop that treadmill, take your toys and go home.

Imagine if we tried our best then didn’t care about the rest.
Imagine if we could care less about our love-handles and flaws.
Imagine accepting ourselves exactly how we are, in spite of what we look like.
Imagine the freedom.

Vulnerable.

“The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.”
― Elisabeth Kübler-Ross

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