I BLAME MARTHA. AND MYSELF.

I am having a problem with something. This is a problem I experience all throughout the year, but Christmastime seems to exaggerate it. I'm not sure how to sum it up. It's something like: Secretly-on-the-inside-I-want-to-be-Martha-Stewart-but-I'm-not-very-
good-at-it-and-I-think-it-would-be-fun-if-I-was-but-instead-I'm-
frustrated-because-I'm-not.

I expressed this problem out loud to a friend today, whom I love dearly and whose honesty I treasure, but her response was that I was making her skin crawl. I tried taking the issue to another brutally honest friend, who said I was being whiny and even mimicked me mockingly. So. I am not up for negative responses at the moment. If you can't relate or think I'm ridiculous, etc., please keep that opinion to yourself.

To expand on my problem, I'll offer some examples. In my head, I think the idea of throwing parties, having people over for dinner, and the like, sounds fun and hospitable and relationship-building. At Christmas, add to that things like sending Christmas cards, putting up extra decorations inside and out, attending festive activities, baking cookies and sharing them with others, buying thoughtful gifts, etc. All pleasant, pretty, interpersonal.

But then my selfish, obsessive nature takes over and turns it all into two things: 1) a way to assert how together and stylish and well-rounded and successful I am, and 2) a self-defeating discovery that I am not together and I do not have enough fashion sense or money to be all that stylish and I fail at many things all the time -- especially those things I put pressure on myself to do because they seem so good and feminine and fun -- and that other people, who don't seem to be trying at all and don't seem to wrestle with these demons, are really good at succeeding in these areas.

I want to enjoy all that the Christmas season has to offer. I want to make the most of every holiday. I want to have a comfortable, attractive home and welcome people into it. I want to keep loved ones updated on our life with the hope that they will keep me updated on theirs. I don't want to be smug or competitive or self-centered or jealous or discontent or insincere...

Philip always tells me I think too hard about things. That may be true. But I don't know how to turn my mind off. My friend says I should just not be competitive. Just stop it. Stop comparing. Stop piling expectations on myself and everyone and everything around me. Just don't send out a Christmas letter because people who read it are bound to make fun of it and be annoyed by it and poke holes in it, no matter how good my intentions may have been, and they probably weren't that pure anyway, and it'll be one less thing to think about during a crazy time of year. Well, your letter is on the way this year, people, for better or for worse.

I don't know what to do about these feelings, and throwing it out into cyberspace seemed a little safer than talking to a human being about it, as I was quickly invalidated when I tried to do that. (And my obsessive, over-analytical mind thinks, "Was that what I needed? A kick in the pants? Because maybe that was a message from God to just Get Over Myself. But I still feel bad, and actually a little worse than before I said anything. And all I want is to feel some peace.")

The end.

P.S. I really don't have anything against Martha Stewart. I think she genuinely enjoys renovating old houses and coming up with creative interior-design ideas and crafts and gardening and so forth. She just found a way to make a profit off of what she already loves doing, so good for her. She probably didn't set out to make me and whoever else feel insecure. It's OK, Martha, I'm not mad.