Signs That You Desperately Need Some Self-Confidence
When I was turning three, Frank Gifford, Kathie Lee's husband, had experienced his biggest season playing for the New York Giants when he won the MVP Award and carried the Giants to the National Football League title over the highly-favored Chicago Bears.
I bet that you also didn't know that Gifford played both offense and defense, a rare sight when there was platoon football after World War II.
I said all of that to say this. What "one" thing, ability, or characteristic, enabled Frank Gifford to achieve his "lion's share" of greatness in his pro-football days? One thing. Confidence. That was it. Confidence in himself, his coaches, and team.
And that same quiet confidence served Gifford again when he asked Kathy Lee then-Epstein for "a" date. I would have given fifty-two bucks to been invisible and witness this historic event.
Needless to say that I personally think that Frank Gifford alone, for all of his athletism and accomplishments is arguably "the" most-blessed man in America, but having a goddess like Kathie Lee for a wife, what else can I add to sell this point to you?
While I adore Kathy Lee unapologetically, it’s Frank whom I respect for being a “real” man. A confident man. Sadly, I have never been described as either, a “real” man or confident man.
But all is not lost. Over the dark and depressing years, I have devoted and channeled that “dark” energy into a study of why people (like me) fail at so many things in life. The results (that you will read momentarily) are astounding.
The sole area of pain, failure and shame that comes to timid men such as myself, is plain. A pure lack of self-confidence. Until a week or so ago, I didn’t know how to recognize the “Signs That You (and I) Desperately Need Self-Confidence,” which is the title of today’s story.
To those among us, man or woman, who is plagued with low amounts of self-confidence, please read and see if “you” are one of the millions who could benefit greatly from being like Frank Gifford, a “real” man, a confident man.
CLASSIC CASE: of Low Self-Confidence
(Starting BELOW) Kathie Lee and Frank Gifford, are Images of Poor Self-Confidence
YOU KNOW YOU DESPERATELY NEED SELF-CONFIDENCE WHEN . . .
You enter a swimming contest and you notice (on the roster), another swimmer is named, "Bob Swimmer," and you suddenly grow terrified of losing and tell the judges you are through.
You ask a gorgeous girl out on a date while dining in a fine restaurant, and she simply says, "be ready in a minute. I have to visit the ladies room," and you leave, thinking that she is seeking a way of escaping you.
You are so prone to losing, and defeatism, you start signing checks and important documents, "Tom T. Loser."
You confide in your priest that you think God made you a loser because He created so many winners on earth. As you leave the confessional booth, the sound of your priest laughing like a hyena burns into your heart.
You walk up to vicious dogs and say, "go ahead! Get it over with! Bite the fire out of my tender shin!"
You always look for strangers to help you place a dollar bill into the change machine due to you thinking that machines in 2012 are secretly-programmed to spot losers and keep their dollar bills.
In grade school and high school, you never got to lead any group anywhere. You were so used to being last (thanks to no self-confidence), your classmates tormented you by naming you, "Larry Last Place," which would have been fine, but your name is "Bob."
You and your frat brothers plan this huge "kegger" party and you are so terrified of getting sick on non-alcoholic beer that you sneak in a jug of apple juice to put into your glass. But even that doesn't work because you discover you are allergic to apples.
You are asked by your first employer, "did you graduate college, son?" You answer, "you bet I did. I was "last" in my class and I was surely-proud of them "C's!"
You try for a year to ask your now-wife, for a date, just like your idol, Frank Gifford, but she is turned-off by your sweat-soaked shirt and thinks you are a pervert and has you locked-up.
After another year, out of sheer pity, "Margie Gene," marries you and doesn't tell you that she has four kids by four other men.
When your two buddies visit you to watch the Super Bowl, "they" cheer loudly with your wife and you stay quiet for the last time you cheered for a team, you choked on a Dorito chip and had to be taken to the ER.
You find it difficult to walk to the end of your sidewalk to get the morning paper, for being scared of the neighborhood bullies, ages, six and nine.
When you and "Margie Gene" were dating, you took her to a county fair and automatically volunteered to stick your head through the hole at the "Pie Throwing Booth." The manager of the booth said, "you are a great loser, Larry Laughing Stock."
You believe with all of your heart, your only male friend, "Jim," who advises you to go skydiving with him. You are "jacked," and excited. But little do you know that "Jim" has sold you out for cash and tells you NOT to wear a parachute, but "do it like a real man, and just float on the air." Your hospital bill run nearly $67,000.00.
Your self-confidence is so low, that you "hire" an area gigolo, "Sanchez Gomez," to take your place in bed with your wife when she wants to make love. You should be happy for she has yet to complain.
Your self-confidence has taken such a toll on your self-image that your four kids (by four other men) refer to you as "Hobo Hal." Your wife joins them in making fun of you.
You have a perfect attendance record at work. And when it comes time to accept your company's gold watch for 20 years devoted service, your boss growls, "who are you, and what kind of sick joke is this?" as "you" reach for the watch.
You have to have your yearly check-up, but only meet with frustration because your family physician declares you "D.O.A.," no pulse.
You have to sit and wait with the blood pressure cuff on your arm and watch your doctor, "Dr. Harry York," make-out with your wife--IN THE WAITING ROOM while the other sick people applaud his skills on pleasing a woman.
You are constantly-tormented by teenage nightmares on the "fights" you lost against your school days rivals and you were always told by these low-lives, "save us the trouble and beat yourself in the face with your fists," and you did. Your teacher, who was no longer sorry for you, took you to the principal and you were sent home for "starting trouble."
You remember one sad event at your office when the C.E.O, made a surprise visit one day and said this to you, "see this baseball? Catch it and win a prize of $5,000.00," and he was standing only three-feet from you and pitched the ball underhanded to you and you hit the floor and covered your head in fear.
You have no photos of your wife or kids on your desk because they are all ashamed of you. Just you. Not your numerous failures due to no self-confidence, but you. And in time, you have grew accustomed to your wife and children's photos being on the "office ladies man's" desk. You think, "George isn't a bad guy, and him sleeping with different women doesn't really make him a whore monger--even when he's in bed with my wife. Does it?"
You seek out area burglars and take them samples of your valuables you keep in a safe in your home. You think "why wait? Get it over with."
In your military service DAY, the drill sergeant used YOU as a bayonet dummy. That explains all of the scars on your frail body.
And the final sign that a person suffers from low self-confidence is the fact
that they cannot fin . . .