In place of a normal post today, I’m going to share something of a short story, for lack of a better name, that I wrote for myself a while back. I had been writing about some of my weaknesses and flaws, trying to introspect and see what aspects of myself and my life I could improve the most, and found myself writing something of a fable instead. So without further ado, an untitled work on the symbiotic relationship between pride and insecurity:
Insecurity was a shadowy, many-legged creature. He scuttled around, frightening people, occasionally barring doorways in an attempt to disrupt people’s lives by keeping them from crossing. He fed on fear, failure, distress of all kinds – nearly the whole range of negative human emotions. But Insecurity, for as large and dark and frightening as he appeared, did not have teeth. He operated in the shadows, preying on people who were too afraid to just ignore or step past him. He relied on the naïve, who did not yet know that he could not bit or claw them, and the phobic, who knew what he was but still could not keep the panic from risking at the sight of him. And so he lived, scurrying from under beds for a meal of startled fear and lingering in doorways to drink in the dread, the frustration, the failed bravery. He lived well enough, but never quite felt satisfied – his diet sustained him, but there was one feeling he could not elicit, and so could not taste: he craved the rich flavor of pain, which his grand but toothless appearance could not provide.
Until one day, Pride arrived in town. Now Pride looked nothing like Insecurity. He was barely the size of your average housecat, and walked on just four stately legs. His size belied his strength, but his strong muscles were hidden under a layer of bright red and orange fuzz. Pride did not live in the shadows, as Insecurity did. He was not large or frightening enough to fill his belly on quick startles, or to keep people from crossing their doorways past him. But Pride had something that Insecurity lacked – Pride had teeth. He rarely managed to partake of the visceral fear and dread that sustained Insecurity, so instead he dined on pain. A quick nip would get him through the day in a pinch, and when he was starving or gluttonous, a hard chomp could usually satiate him. Mostly.
But Pride too was tired of his uniform diet. He enjoyed the rich taste of pain, but even the most delicious of meals becomes unappealing after a time of eating nothing else. On a good day, the result of a bite might have gotten him pain seasoned with startled fear, but none of the subtle flavoring of dread, frustration, or the gut terror of seeing a great shadowy beast. And so, after yet another bland meal, Pride payed a visit to Insecurity.
Insecurity received him in his favorite shadowy corner.
“I come with a proposal for you, Insecurity,” said Pride.
“A mutually beneficial business arrangement,” Pride affirmed. Insecurity stared silently.
“These humans have such an abundance of delicious emotions, my friend,” Pride continued after a pause. “Why should you have to live on the scraps of dread and startle, always hoping that you won’t go hungry because you misjudged the bravery of your victim? Why should I have to subsist on nothing but hard-earned pain, day in and day out? I long for the flavors of dread, of the paralyzing terror which you instill, and I can see in your eyes that you too are unsatisfied with you meagre options. We can help each other. I offer you my teeth and the rich taste of pain, and all I ask in return is that I may share in the fear, dread, and frustration that you are so accustomed to.”
Insecurity was silent for a moment longer as he mulled over the creature’s proposal. He had worked and lived alone for a long time, but he saw the wisdom in Pride’s offer. Together they would not only enjoy rich new flavors, but also never again feel powerless against the increasing number of humans who no longer feared him.
“I am hungry,” he said in response. “Let us begin our relationship with a meal.”
And so they did. The feasted daily on fear, pain, dread, and the confusion of the humans who had previously believed Insecurity to be harmless. Those who used to march past him through their doorways and into the world soon grew wary and fearful once more, knowing that the shadowy presence could now hurt them. In this manner, Pride and Insecurity terrorized the town. Many people gave up, refusing to even attempt to cross their doorways. But Pride and Insecurity always found a way in, to feed on their fear and on their failure. They never went hungry, growing only larger and stronger, and tasting more and more flavors as the humans’ frustration evolved into despair and self-hatred, knowing that the whole world awaited them on the other side of a doorway, which they could not bring themselves to cross.
This piece may seem odd to most – but if you’re like me, you may understand. Pride and insecurity seem, on the surface, to be opposites. But they’re two vices that can combine in the worst of unions: when your insecurities are fortified by pride, it can become impossible to listen to the criticism of others, to introspect honestly, and to admit your faults in order to improve them. On the other hand, when pride is fortified by insecurity, you can be overly competitive and sensitive, taking offense to criticism and becoming something of a bad sport. The combination of my insecurities over my abilities and intelligence, especially those insecurities regarding how others perceive me, in combination with my pride can make even a friendly game of Scrabble a cause for distress.
This story may mean little to you, and that’s okay. But I’m proud (in the non-vicious way) that I have been able to introspect at least this much, and come to see the manner in which my flaws interact and damage my relationships, my life, and my well-being.