I loathe this word.
Latin in origin, it's first known use dates back to 1649. Merriam and Webster define it as such:
1: not confident or sure. 2: not adequately guarded or sustained. 3: not firmly fastened or fixed. 4a: not highly stable or well-adjusted. 4b: deficient in assurance : beset by fear and anxiety.
There I am, in the green above.
I fear (more) than I care to admit to and when ever I find myself confronted with one of said fears, it often times leads to anxiety and blah, blah, blah.
My list of insecurities is long and distinguished but a few that come to mind are as follows:
Fatherhood - This is intensified by the simple fact that I am daddy to a daughter. If, by chance, my wife and I did (it) a different way, and we conceived a son, then I don't think that my insecurity would be as intense and/or apparent. But, as God would have it, that would not be the case. I know what goes on in the little minds of boys and to know that my daughter will be the subject of fodder for some little turds fantasy, scares the crap, right out of me. Having a boy would have allowed me to worry about the whereabouts of one wanger, but as it is, I have a world full of those little bastards to dealt with.
Physical Prowess - I know that it is commonplace for one to grow 'outward' a touch after marriage, but damn. I was never confused for being a Brad Pitt look-a-like and I have never had a body that looked to have been chiseled by an angel, but at a time long ago, I was considerably thinner and didn't need to suck in my gut to enable the buttoning of me pants. Now, I am just a chubby, insecure and overly anxious turd.
Writing - I would not equate failure, here in blog land, with that of an extinction level event, but I would rather not cyber rub another the wrong way. I tend to base my opinion of my writing somewhat, on the acceptance of accomplished writers. If anyone that I hold in high regard were to ask that I step away from the blogging business because they are becoming dumber for having read my stuff, I would do so. The last thing that I want is to further retard any one's, already questionable, impression of me. That would just break balls.
And, as it has become customary for me to do so, I will end in song, as I consider myself, a music snob.