In a rare moment, I was having a soulful conversation with a friend at a restaurant. The waitress had filled our glasses with water, and I commented that she was very attractive. So I asked my friend if he'd date her.
"She's a little out of my league," he said.
I was taken aback by this statement because I don't believe in that. Certain people may not be matches for each other for many, many reasons, but to say that one person has more value as a human being than another is ludicrous to me. On the other hand, it's no surprise that we think this way, given that the media pounds this idea into our consciousness. Our worship of celebrities whether they have anything meaningful to offer or not, our over obsessive want for things like the best tech, and our need to compare who is better than who partly derived from our day jobs and sports have blinded us to what it means to be human.
My friend's assessment of himself was this: the older he gets, the lower the bar plummets for the woman that he thinks he can get. Basically, he'll settle.
Not only is this an insult to the woman, but it's an insult to him. Meaning, he's telling himself that he isn't deserving of anyone of quality. Quality or beauty is in the eye of the beholder, of course.
I tried to convince him that whether he deserves the woman of his dreams, whatever that may be, is a choice he makes. I also told him that a high quality woman requires that he have a high level of self worth. And this is where I made the mistake, but I didn't know how to describe self worth without using that term.
My main character in my book had lost his son in a very tragic incident. Ever since then, he guilts himself into believing that he's a bad father. From my point of view, the author who is The Creator, my main character was powerless to save his son. Period. Before this incident, he was a fantastic father. But layering this guilt upon himself has skewed his view of the world and forces him to continue making mistakes with his other children that can be detrimental. Because he was a great father before, he still has it in him to be a great father now. But he simply isn't because he believes he isn't. And same goes for self worth.
Building self worth is a lie. In other words, we inherently value ourselves. When confronted with danger, we automatically try and find a way to survive, fight or flight. Our bodies are built to self preserve. If we try to kill ourselves by holding our breaths, we'll faint, and our bodies will breath, suicide thwarted. Suicide jumpers who have survived have wished they hadn't jumped after jumping. I duck when I hear a sound like a gun shooting. Self preservation is born innate within us all.
And so is self worth. It's when we lather lies upon ourselves—that we aren't worth anything—that we cover our innate worth. And because adults are so good at holding onto thoughts that thoughts naturally multiply, forcing us to hold onto those same degrading thoughts even more, multiplying ever more so, creating a vicious cycle. And suddenly, the lie that is low self esteem becomes real. So if my friend believes he needs to lower his standards to attain a woman as he gets older, then that thought becomes his reality. The sad part is that he can easily change his reality by simple observation.
Every color in the rainbow exists in our world. We, however, don't take notice of all of them or even some. It isn't until we ask ourselves, our minds, to look for a particular color that we see it. But once we do that, any other color is likely not to get noticed. So if you were to look around and note all the things that are red, you'll likely miss the things that are yellow, and vice versa. In turn, our minds act like a filter.
Without looking like he's psycho, my friend should take note of who is checking him out throughout his day. Be it man or woman, he should only acknowledge people who seem to show interest. At first, the number of people will be scant. That's because he's learning to see what those queues are. His intuition will teach him what those are as long as he's not delusional. As several days go by, the number of people he perceives that are attracted to him will increase. What he'll realize is that he is an attractive man. Maybe not to everyone—no one is universally attractive to everyone—but his mind will soon learn that he has more options than he ever allowed himself to believe.