When they said love yourself, what did they really mean?
Did they account for the times when one feels utterly shitty, inadequate, useless and terrible?
How can I learn to love parts that I never have, parts that I didn’t even know I had boxed in, and some more parts that various people told me are simply not good enough? I’m trying everyday, as I sit with many of the terrible, dark, seemingly insurmountable facets of myself that are showing up lately.
I sit with it. Simply. And I try (and sometimes fail) to merely bear witness. To watch the comings and goings of my own feelings towards all that’s coming to the surface. It has meant accepting with grace, the contradictions that I hold, that are beginning to stare me in the face. To find gentlessness rather than judgement in viewing it. To slowly dismantle the heavy dualities I still sometimes impose on myself that are beginning to wear me down. To go easy on how I view past transgressions. To dig deep and find a capacity for softness where I have piled layer upon hard layer. But the hardest thing of them all has been to resist the urge to do a damn thing about any of this.
The only job I feel called upon at this point in my life is to embrace it all. To view it, own it, accept it as a part of who I am. To give myself the permission to be a bit more human everyday. To be real about the average, ordinary, imperfectly-perfectly person who doesn’t have it all figured out, and is still getting on okay, somehow. That has been the hardest thing of all. And I sit here, watching that too.
I call bluff on the love yourself clarion call I felt so drawn to in my younger years. I’m switching this around now, to see yourself. It’s okay not to love it all. Because as long as the goal is love it, I’m going to be only looking for the parts that feel palatable and easy to accept. And I am hungry to learn how to be here for all of it. For all of me.
One year ago: Movie misgivings
Two years ago: But if you try sometimes you might find you get what you need
Three years ago: What coming home feels like: the sweet taste of acceptance