There’s no formula for self-worth. You have to believe in it even if others don’t. I needed to stop hearing Paige’s hurtful words and move on. Weight loss alone wouldn’t fix that.
It had to come from within. Later that night, I was jolted from a deep sleep by my ringing phone. Groggily, I realized it was 4:00 a.m. and the caller was Lance. Annoyed, I answered with a sarcastic, “What, Lance?”
“Did I wake you?” he asked, sounding uncharacteristically nervous.
“You think?” I snapped, waking up fully as I sensed something off in his voice. “What’s wrong?”
He hesitated before blurting out, “Julie’s pregnant.”
I frowned in confusion, asking, “Who the hell is Julie?”
“The girl you met on our birthday,” he reminded me.
After a moment, I recalled the young blonde cheerleader. I raised an eyebrow, asking if she was even legal. Lance got defensive, insisting she was twenty and had her own apartment.
“Did you check her ID?” I teased, which only frustrated him more.
“Do you always have to be such a smug prick?” he shot back.
I retorted, “Do you always have to act like an irresponsible teenager? You’re thirty-five and you got a twenty-year-old pregnant. Ever heard of protection?”
His voice turned cold. “You know what, Art? Get over yourself. You think you’re perfect, always looking down on me. You’ve always been Mom and Dad’s favorite, the golden boy. Meanwhile, I’m the screw-up.”
I should have felt some sympathy, but his whining only irritated me more.
“Spare me, Lance. Everyone worships you, the football star. Mom and Dad always bail you out, but when my life falls apart, I’m on my own. I was always the one being compared to you.”
He snapped back. “That’s nonsense. Every time they help me, they lecture me to be more like you. And you, you act like no one ever helps you. But when your wife cheated, whose couch did you crash on? Who ran interference? Me. I’ve always been there for you. Even back in high school when I fought off bullies for you. So cut the crap about being all alone.”
I was about to snap back at Lance, but then I stopped. I actually listened to what he said, and it hit me. He was right. Despite our fights and my judgments, he was always there for me when things got tough.
I started to see things from his perspective. While I was jealous of him growing up, I never noticed how much my parents bragged about me because I was too focused on how proud they were of him. I always saw him as the tall, good-looking guy who had it easy. But from his view, after dropping out of college, he constantly felt like a failure.
Our parents always stepped in to help him because they didn’t believe he could do it himself, which must have crushed his self-esteem. Now he was scared because he had a baby on the way and felt incapable of handling it. So, he called me, his twin brother, for support. And what did I do?
I treated him like crap.
“You’re right, Lance,” I said without sarcasm or malice.
He wasn’t expecting that and was caught off guard. I took the chance to elaborate.
“You’ve always been there for me, no matter what. You’ve always been the guy I lean on.”