I’ve done a bit more thinking in regards to the revelations of my previous blog, “Love Yourself”. In it, I spoke about the feelings of unworthiness I still deal with, likely as a result of my father’s unwillingness to show me the kind of love most fathers have for their daughters. This left me in a state of constantly wanting to please him.

I’ve thought about this a bit more, and despite my age — 52, next month — I have long overlooked my own responsibility in this equation.

It’s not just that I feel unworthy; everyone does, from time to time. It’s that I take it a step further, and allow those feelings of unworthiness to convince me to give up whatever it is I’m pursuing.

Walt gave me “You’re not good enough”, but I have contributed “so I’m giving up”.

It’s a 1-2 punch that has stopped me from achieving a lot of things in my life, starting back when I entered college at age 20.

This is something I’ve been mulling over, the past few days. I’ve been going through a ton of old photos, the majority being from ages 16 to 20, with some on either side. Mind you, I had a lot of garbage happen in my life during those years. In fact, everything up to that point was pretty stressful; sure, there was the normal teenage angst in the equation, but I also was forced to move several times, I was blocked from attending college, and Walt abandoned my mother and I.

Make no mistake; they were incredibly tough years. But there was a difference before 20, and after it. You can tell in those photos, and it’s most noticeable in my weight.

Up until I left for college, I wasn’t truly overweight. I was in the realm of “average”; I could have lost a few pounds, but this is the case for most women. I probably would have been at the perfect weight for my height and bone structure with 20 less pounds on my frame.

Within two years of that time, I was obese. My weight shot up in a hurry, and it’s never really slowed down since that point. Yes, I have no doubts that something physiological happened at that point, but so did something else: the #2 in the 1-2 punch I referenced earlier.

I started giving up.

I gave up on a lot of dreams, including finishing college. I gave up on a lot of things I really wanted, because I was the one who needed to make a sacrifice. And I’ve had roughly thirty years, now, of giving up; of stopping myself from completing tasks, holding myself back, making an effort — but not quite enough.

It would have been easy enough to lay the blame at Walt’s feet and leave it at that; as if feeling unworthy isn’t enough to deal with. But I would be hiding from the truth if I don’t accept the responsibility for the rest of the reaction: giving up.

When I give up on things, it’s easy to guess what happens; I feel more unworthy. It’s a vicious cycle that’s been going on for decades, and I need to work on stopping it. I have to take responsibility when I fail, and move forward instead of throwing my hands up in disgust and accepting failure.

I have to be willing to succeed.

I hope that this process of writing all this out helps someone else other than me; I seriously doubt I’m the only one who goes through this. As I move forward and hit the challenges that are surely before me, I need to be mindful that success takes effort; and success means change.