A story about how I loved my favorite idol more than anyone, but couldn't believe in myself.

There was a day when I stood in the cheki line and wanted to go home.

That morning, I spent an hour styling my hair. I fixed it over and over in front of the mirror, thinking, 'Maybe today looks good,' before I left the house.

And yet, the moment I got in line, none of it mattered anymore.

Because 'that girl' was smiling next to my favorite idol.

She was cuter than me, and a good person.

I saw her often. Every time I came to an event, I'd catch sight of her somewhere. She was natural, cute, and seemed like she wasn't trying at all.
My favorite idol looked happy, too.

The moment I saw my idol's smile, my 'one hour' felt incredibly ridiculous. I felt miserable.

I think she's probably a nice girl.
She has good manners, and she even nods at me with a smile, even though I'm like this.

If she were a mean person, I might have felt better.

While looking at her, who had done nothing wrong, I just started to hate myself.

I can believe in my favorite idol, but

The person I hated the most wasn't her, and it wasn't my favorite idol.

It was myself, for being jealous.

It's strange, even to me.
Because I thought I understood my favorite idol better than anyone.
What kind of words they like, and the moments when their eyes crinkle.
I've spent years watching them all this time.

I can believe in my favorite idol so much.
But I just can't believe in myself at all.

The moment I get in line, I feel 'embarrassed' about the hair I spent an hour styling. Every time I come to an event, I compare myself to someone else. When it's almost my turn for a cheki, my heart feels restless. The phrase 'someone like me' comes to mind like a habit.

My love for my favorite idol was real. That, at least, was something I couldn't doubt.

But every time I tried to deliver that love, 'someone like me' would get in the way. I have the love, but I can't believe in the person bringing it.

I can believe in my favorite idol so much. Why is it that I just can't believe in myself at all?

I remembered those few dozen seconds

At first, I tried to manage things with technique.

So I could say something clever at the fan event.
So I could look even a little bit cuter in the photos.
So that my favorite idol would remember me, even just a little. I looked up ways to respond well to compliments and practiced smiling in front of the mirror.

But no matter how many 'ways to do things well' I learned, the misery I felt in that line never went away.

At one point, I confided that worry to someone.
I said, 'I hate myself the most when I'm jealous.'

That person didn't give me an answer. Instead, they asked me this:

'What is the you that is jealous saying?'

I couldn't answer that question for a while.
Because I thought jealousy was something to 'erase,' I had never really listened to that voice.

I closed my eyes and tried to face that emotion.

Then, the part of me that was jealous said this:

'I wanted him to tell me I was cute, too.'

The moment I heard those words, I didn't just realize it—I remembered.

There had been times when he told me I was cute.

'That's a cute outfit.' 'Did you get your nails done?' 'You're always so stylish.'

In the mere tens of seconds of a short fan event.
He was really looking at me and saying those things.

Yet, I would just laugh it off at the time, and then dismiss it after I got home. Thinking, 'It was probably just flattery,' or 'He's probably saying that to everyone anyway.'

My favorite idol had already said it. It was me who hadn't been able to receive it.

What came before technique

That was when I finally understood.

What I needed to change wasn't my fan event skills or how I looked in photos. It was my relationship with myself.

A person who cannot believe in themselves cannot properly believe in love from others. That is why I had been failing to receive even the words my favorite idol gave me.

From then on, I started by facing myself before focusing on techniques.

More fundamental than choosing the right words at meet-and-greet events or learning how to smile for photos, there was something else.
Giving myself permission to be liked by my favorite idol.
Accepting the words I receive without dismissing them.
Treating the part of me that feels jealous as an ally, not an enemy.

Only after I could do that did the techniques I had learned finally come to life.

In front of my favorite idol, I was finally able to be my natural self.

If you hate the part of yourself that feels jealous right now, or if you feel like you are the one who believes in yourself the least,

it is not because you are a cold-hearted person. I believe it is proof that you haven't given up on your own potential yet.

You don't have to make jealousy disappear. You just need to ask it properly, "What are you trying to say?" Deep down, that voice is usually hiding a very straightforward "I love you."

May you and your favorite idol both be happy.

If you feel like you want to face yourself from the roots up, rather than just finding a temporary fix,
I have compiled the "way of facing myself" that I arrived at after years of taking the long way around into a one-month program.
These are not techniques, but questions to help you change yourself. Like the question I was asked: "What is the jealous part of you trying to say?"
I would be happy if you could use this as a kind of charm when your heart feels tired or when you start to dislike yourself.