I had someone say the funniest thing to me this weekend. One of my friends mentioned to me that I was such a good looking guy in high school. To which I say: wha? Did I miss something?
I guess that I've never really had such an image of myself. I've never thought of myself as attractive. How can one possibly be the judge of such things? It didn't help that I had this idea constantly thrown at me that I was one of the social outcasts, unworthy of popularity.
And now I find that I still think this, and I'm surprised if not shocked when people pay me compliments, because I think to myself how untrue their words must be. It can't possibly be reality. I can't be good looking. It's a lie.
It amazes me how the trauma of a few years of high school can still manage to affect my self-esteem, a decade after the fact. And how does one go about fixing something like this, if it can be fixed at all?
I was putting in a central line, and one of the nurses was standing next to me, helping me with some saline and other assorted things, and she said, "Dr. Ifinding, you smell nice today." Can it be possible that all these years I've been entirely and utterly wrong about myself? What a devastating thought that is.