So. I entered some of my images into a wedding photography competition.
At the time, it seemed like a BRILLIANT idea. A bit of recognition! A chance to gauge if I’m actually good at what I’m doing! Hell, I might even build up some new contacts from it! How exciting!!!!!!!
Truth be told, I’m nervous as hell. Every time I think about it now, my head starts hurting, my heart starts pounding, I can’t breathe, and I catch my innards rising rather quickly to my mouth in a really unpleasant fashion.
Yes, I have a mild panic attack.
The exact same panic attacks I used to have when I performed solos on my cello. The exact same panic attacks I had before, when it atually got so bad, I couldn’t actually maintain the contact between my bow and the strings. The exact same panic attacks which resulted in going to hypnotherapy in a desperate attempt to be able to make it through solo performances.
I didn’t think I’d ever have to endure them again. Yet stupidly (in a face-palm fashion), it makes perfect sense that I would have to endure them now. Exposing myself for the world to judge me, to be rejected by someone who doesn’t agree with my work, my efforts, to have someone turn around and say “…meh…your pic is alright, but this OTHER work of art here is an absolute MASTERPIECE omg I must FRAME IT and hang it up in the west wing bathroom of my mansion!”
And that’s ok! Everyone has different opinions, obviously. It would be weird if we all liked the same thing. And when I asked people to go and check out the competition, I asked that people actually vote for the one they like, not just vote for me. I’ve already looked at one of my entries, and there are several that I prefer way more than mine. WAY MORE than mine. In fact, I find myself wondering what the hell I was thinking submitting that particular image.
Pathetically, I find myself making really lame excuses. I’ve only been doing this for 2 years. So what? You’ve had time to learn. I’m totally self taught. And? You have the internet, right? It was about time I entered a competition. Really? Says who? You didn’t have to enter. My arse needed to be kicked into gear. What – by entering a competition? There are better ways.
I’m very nervous. Not nervous about winning, I never expect to win. I’m not nervous about not winning, I can deal with that. I’m nervous about being up there in front of people I don’t know who can just as happily point and laugh at my work any time they like. It’s different when it’s a photo shoot, people have chosen my work. That’s always an honour and very flattering. This? Well I’m forcing my work under the nose of innocents. Expecting people to look at my work and then make a decision, and silently hope they make a decision in my favour.
That feels a bit weird.
I think I need to figure out what the hell is going on with my brain. Why do this to myself when it makes me feel like this. It’s amazing enough that I put myself up for this in the first place; I half wonder if I had rum in a glass in front of me when I did it (I’m pretty sure I didn’t) or maybe I was being distracted by The Smalls at the time (they were already in bed, I seem to recall). I also need to stop wanting throw up last night’s dinner every time I so much as think about it all. If I’m going to ask people to at least check out the competition, I need to stop being such a damn pussy about it. It’s almost a piece of cake when doing it under the guise of JMP. Now I just need to transfer that mask over to me, and then remove it, and then, um, still be just as semi-confident.
Not entirely sure how to do that.
