It is likely that your upbringing instilled in you a feeling of your own insignificance. The child himself does not know what he is like. He believes his parents, what they say becomes the truth for him. What did your mom and dad tell you about you? How were your achievements and failures assessed, what goals were set for you?

I think I was loved. I was the first and very long-awaited child (before me, my mother gave birth to a stillborn girl). She was born weak, through caesarean section. I only remember that my mother sometimes criticized my appearance - she said that I was too thin and that my legs were thin (I still hide my legs under my trousers). She also didn’t like that I was too shy. Dad never reproached. He was very good man, just drank heavily. As a child, I was embarrassed by him sometimes. For example, I was ashamed to take him home drunk if he was lying on the street. His mother and grandmother brought him, I never followed him. I was also embarrassed by my mother. I wanted her to be young, beautifully dressed, well-groomed... This is idiocy, considering how my mother lived - an alcoholic husband, three children, work at a factory...
As for goals and objectives, I don’t remember anyone talking to me about this topic. I was quite independent and decided for myself which club to go to, who to be friends with, what profession to choose, how to study. My lessons were never checked, I was never scolded for my grades, I studied well, but not because I was forced to, I simply couldn’t do it any other way. She was the head of the class, at the summer camp - the chairman of the detachment, the council of the squad (if anyone remembers).
As far back as I can remember, I have always been jealous of someone. One of early memories. Once I went to christmas tree, I was about 6 or 7 years old. There was one girl, very pretty, cheerful, smiling, who ran up to Santa Claus, recited a poem, and he gave her some kind of gift. She took the gift to her mother, and again ran up to Santa Claus, again recited the poem and again received the gift. And so on several times. I stood still and could not bring myself to approach Santa Claus. I was shying. I wanted him to come to me himself, then I would tell him. I stood and watched as other children casually ran up, snatching candy and toys, until the gifts ran out. At that moment I wanted to be like that girl, I envied her lightness. Besides, she had a very beautiful dress, a real New Year’s costume, and I had a simple blue dress, and underneath it was my mother’s lace blouse, on which my mother sewed tinsel, as if I were a little girl. So I left without a gift. I remember I was still indignant at her behavior. After all, this is wrong - she already received the gift, why is she running after it again? And Santa Claus? What, he doesn’t remember that he already gave a gift to this girl? Why doesn’t he tell her: they’ve already given it to you, get out of here? Why doesn’t this girl think about other children, because now they won’t get a gift? How is she not ashamed? But at the same time, I wanted to be just like her - beautiful, arrogant, elegant.