I don’t think so. I think I have a pretty realistic picture of my own skills and abilities. But of course, I might be deluded, and not be able to evaluate my true abilities. But the reason I believe I am not deluded is that I can’t think of a single one of my friends or colleagues who is deluded in this way. We all seem to have good insight into our abilities and realistic appreciation of our skills. It’s those rare birds who are deluded that really stand out, and why talking about them in this thread is so much fun.
(I need to set this up.) I ran track in high school. My events were the mile, two mile, and 4x440 relay. A few years later when I joined the service it became a thing again. In the Army you regularly have to do a physical fitness test which consists of: push-ups, sit-ups, and a two mile run. I was typically one of the fastest dudes on the run, usually finishing in a little over eleven minutes.
There was this guy, we’ll call him Skaggs. He was a little pudgy, couldn’t have been more than 5’3", and like many little dudes had a pretty severe case of Short Man Syndrome, otherwise he was a nice enough guy. As I said, you do the whole physical fitness thing pretty often, so you become familiar with where everyone else is at. Skaggs usually ran the two-mile in about sixteen minutes.
One day, a bunch of us were sitting around in a room waiting for something (which is what being in the service is all about!) and the conversation turned to toward the PT test. We’re all laughing and screwing around and someone joked about me coming in first all the time on the run. I start to blow it off and then Skaggs loudly interrupts with “WHATEVER LOWDOWN! EVERYBODY KNOWS I COULD KICK YOUR ASS IN THE RUN IF I REALLY WANTED TO!” Total record scratch moment. The entire room went silent and turned to look at him. He sat there, satisfied with himself, and slowly the conversation in the room picked back up. It was so out-of-the-blue! If you saw his face you knew he was serious, and if you saw everyone else’s face you knew they were thinking: you-can’t-be-serious. It was amazing. Like, where is the disconnect? What is it you are missing?
You just reminded of some great conversations with my mother in law and her own personal hang-up of choosing the leanest possible meat for every purpose. She says “I don’t know what you do to cook tri-tip so well. I keep trying to do it myself, and it never comes out as moist and juicy as when you do it. I even make sure to trim off every bit of fat…” :smack:
You would think that she could stop there and figure out the problem, but no.
She was even known to go to the butcher and get them to grind up filet mignon so she could make hamburgers out of it. She knew it was dry and tasteless, but she wouldn’t recognize why.
Yes, unfortunately, that’s a fair assessment. Smart in some ways and a pretty decent lady overall (despite being a mother-in-law), but she had some real hang-ups.
It might even be appropriate for this thread: in her twenties and thirties she was very proud of her ability to seduce and sleep with any guy she wanted to. (Seriously, she even bragged about this in front of my pastor once). At seventy, she was a little delusional about her current seductive capabilities and was very frustrated that the thirty-year old men weren’t responding any more. (And heaven forbid that she settle down with an “old person”! She complained about being around “old people” even when they were fifteen years younger than she was.)
My god, the memories. I once knew someone who was a barely-there musician with one or two self-recorded CD-ROMs, but nevertheless expected to be treated like a rock star (wanting others to help carry gear around everywhere they went, “just in case”) and expected to be the center of any conversation about music (even by strangers!) Absolutely excruciating.
I know a lot of really talented musicians. But I also know a few people who insist on playing along during a jam, who can’t play…at least not well enough to jam with talented musicians. And everyone needs time to learn and when we were all 20 years old it was how you learned. But now, its been 30 years and you haven’t taken the time on your own to improve - you just pull out your out of tune guitar and strum the only three chords you know randomly.
I don’t play (well, a very little piano, sometimes even when someone in my family is home) because I’m not good at it. But I enjoy listening to it - if these people aren’t there.
Same. This is one of my biggest fears. So I’ve swung to the other direction.
“Here’s a thing I wrote.”
“It’s pretty good.”
“You’re right, it’s utter crap.”
“What? No. It’s pretty good. I’d strengthen your thesis a bit, and your conclusion’s weak, but you’re on the right track.”
“Yeah, I really should just quit.”
It’s to the point now where if I say I did horrible my close friends will ask me what was really said or is it just something my crazy head translated. Once I got feedback from my advisor that said, “While I’m impressed with the research you’ve done and I think it’s a fascinating topic, my principal concern is this: this paper is so poorly written that often times I am wondering what language you wrote it in. Seriously. There are sections that don’t even make sense.”
On one hand, ouch. On the other, at least I didn’t imagine that I suck.
I’m a really bad cook. I know this and happily accept advice from anyone. I haven’t started a fire in several years, I consider that to be a good thing.
When asked if I sing, my answer is usually “Rarely and badly” or “only when I want to scare the critters.”
I accept that about myself. There are several subjects that I in which do consider myself to be an expert and I’m always amazed when someone else knows more than I do about them. I smile and nod, take notes and then go look it up to see if they are right.
That is a terrible reaction on my part, but at least I don’t tell them that I doubt their words to their faces.
Some of us are confident enough to accept that we don’t know everything about everything. Others are insecure enough that they have to try to impress people with their supposed knowledge.
As to the baker the OP mentioned…I’d just thank her for thinking about me, but that I’m on a new diet and can’t have sweets.
Heh. Decided out of the blue at 50 years old to start playing banjo. Bought a nice one. It’s a beauty.
Never played an instrument in my life. Took lessons for a year. My playing gave me tennis elbow (tendonitis). And now my bursitis is bugging me in my left shoulder. Pretty sure a bone spur is coming back.
This is something I struggle with. I started writing about 20 years ago more as a blog just for my own eyes. My english and spelling are horrible. I have basicaly pursued the same subject matter the entire time. Lately in the past year or so I started becomming more and more impressed with the concepts I have been developing and decided it would be worth publishing as a fiction. ( possibly delusional on my part).
I think there can be a fine line between being delusional and believing in yourself. I can usually spot delusional when I see it but when in doubt I like to give the benefit of the doubt.
My best guess? She grew up eating this same type of baking – like from a parent – and she grew to like it. And she’s one of those people who puts all the stock in her own taste. Combined with a bunch of friends who won’t tell her there’s a problem, and the fact that she probably mostly makes her stuff for her friends, and that’s enough. The acquaintances are few and are excused as outliers.
Even if she does get critiqued by a professional or starts a failing business, she might have held the belief that she’s a good baker long enough that she can’t accept she’s wrong. That’s the same with anything, really.
I’m reminded of this girl I went to university with. She thought every guy, single or spoken for was after her. Thing was she had one eye going off in a direction different than her second eye and her mouth was somehow distorted. She had a boyfriend but when he wasn’t there she just told all these tales about guys hitting on her. One thing though - we were often with her during these alleged hits and saw nothing of the sort.
Both of the ladies I mentioned have been told about cooking things less thoroughly. Might as well be talking to them in Korean, it just does not make sense to them. I wasn’t present for the conversations involving bro’s MiL, but Mom still manages to be convinced that hers is the superior way to cook even after seeing that the results are not. My pasta gets snorted up as fast as I can plate it, hers takes several tours around each plate… but she cooks better.
