brbfade:

serindrana:

In my experience, it’s quite possible (and very, very unpleasant) to both know that the competitive model is worthless and bunk, and still not be able to extract yourself from it.

I agree with you, wholly, that it’s unproductive and dangerous. I never meant to say that it wasn’t. But it’s also very, very hard to shake. It’s not a switch to flip.

When I realize I’m letting it color how I see things? I do unfollow people. I savior them. I pull away. I do things to take care of myself and give myself space to get on top of the damn thing again and convince myself that it’s not true. But the fact that sometimes it gets ahold of me and it makes me feel like shit? I can’t allow myself to think that it makes me a failure or a bad person.

That was the point I was trying to make.

If you never think like it’s a competition, or you’ve gotten over it, more power to you. But I know I’m not the only one who finds it a struggle, and that’s why I’m getting involved at all - so that maybe one person sees it and goes Oh, so I’m not failing at the moment because I am a bad person, maybe I can do this.

Yes, it’s a very very toxic mindset. But it’s not easy to shrug off.

This is it exactly.  I feel like many (most? all?) people who battle this kind of insecurity like me are well aware that it’s illogical.  But knowing something is unproductive and damaging, and even trying to rationalize your way out of this mindset (reminding yourself that feedback does not necessarily equate to the quality of your work, or that what is “good” is subjective and people have varying tastes, or that comparing yourself to others is destructive, or going as far as not putting notifications on so you don’t count your replies, or starting to remove other people from your field of vision temporary so you don’t compare) doesn’t always work to make those feelings go away.  I’ve been trying these reasonable and logical arguments for ages, and I wish I could say it’s stopped me from having these bad spells.  I’m not saying these aren’t good reminders for people.  I’ve reminded people of them myself, but it’s just one of those things that’s far easier said than done for a lot of people.

I guess personally I don’t even feel this sort of insecurity is stemming from competitiveness necessarily, because I’m not out to beat anyone, or win some kind of race, or be crowned champion of the fandom.  Neither is it generally about begrudging the attention someone else is getting or even wanting to be popular.  It’s just hard for me to separate this sense of wanting to be good at something I do (and I don’t think that’s the same as wanting to be the best), wanting to feel something I’ve done can connect to someone else, can evoke some kind of emotional response, or managed to say what I wanted to with this piece I’m sharing, (and I do think those are aspects of creative arts) and unfortunately, I think perhaps the most obvious way a person who creates something finds out that they’ve managed to make something that does this is by how others respond to it.  So no, while replies and attention are not the same as producing something good, it’s hard to separate that idea that if no one is commenting or hitting the like button or responding to your work or only a scattered few do that maybe you are doing something incredibly wrong, maybe this thing you fought yourself to create wasn’t worthwhile at all, maybe it doesn’t resonate with anyone.  It’s that it’s a scary thing to share this creation you’ve made, that’s so much a part of you and you put it out there. It’s hard not to wonder if you should just stop sharing your work.

And maybe those fears are silly, because again, I don’t know how much we should be fixated on what other people think about what we do.  Again comparing yourself to others is destructive.  I wish I could stop myself from doing it.  I guess that is why I sometimes do subscribe to telling myself “write/draw/etc. for myself” because I want to keep myself focusing on the fact that I like doing these things, and not let my worries or insecurities about my work hinder my enjoyment. 

This, so much all of this. 

I try not to compare myself to others: their review counts, their hit counts, their likes and links and kudos. I know how stupid and pointless and destructive it is to obsess over it. And yet, I find myself doing it anyway. It’s a hard thing to shake. But if this discussion has been good for one thing (and actually I think it’s been really interesting and thought-provoking all around), it’s been nice to learn that it’s not a battle I’m fighting alone.