Tag: self love

Thyself

Beginning in early childhood, I dove into the concept of ‘love thy neighbor’ without pausing to consider the ‘as thyself’ part.

Oh man, have I been cruel to myself.

The aftershocks of my self-inflicted Earthquakes are off the Richter scale, as illustrated by my harried nervous system and visibly exhausted body.

For most of my life, I’ve treated others the way I wanted to be treated without stopping to see how I was treating myself, or letting myself be treated by others.

Embodying a doormat, I didn’t realize that I had anything to do with the avalanche of abuses I endured.

Who ordered this truckload of dung, indeed.

Now I understand that I am worthy of healthy love, and I am my sole source of self-love.

Being both self-taught and a late bloomer, this will require careful cultivation and consistent effort.

At least effort and I are old friends.

Though it feels unnatural and shameful to allot resources to myself, I must begin, and begin again.

I feel remorseful when I think of the kindness I denied myself while simultaneously over-giving to others, lighting myself on fire so that they might be warm.

I feel hopeful now that I am starting to practice self-kindness. Simply thinking about loving myself is a huge step on my healing path.

I know that the treasure I seek lies in the cave I fear to enter.

Removing toxic relationships might lighten my load, and would likely be worth the temporary albeit intense discomfort incurred by uprooting.

Yet I remain like a stubborn ox, cursing my burden as I remain willingly yoked, feeling hopelessly bound by the pressure to live up to social expectations.

The cave I fear to enter echoes with judgmental whispers.

‘Through this action, I practice self-love’ is mantra. May I hear it above the voices of those who might object. May I repeat it even as my voice trembles and cracks. May I remember that those who matter don’t mind, and those who mind don’t matter.

May I keep moving forward even when left in the dust by the turtle and the snail.

May I hold myself tenderly in lovingkindness, no matter what I have done or will do.

May I rest in peace in this lifetime, in moments such as this one.

Tired

I’m tired of censoring myself, of thinking of things to say but being too shy to let the words out, even now.

I’m tired of being deeply closeted about the neurodiversity of my brain.

My feathers are ruffled from being hidden so long, they long to stretch and soar.

I’m tired of trying hard to act like I’m not trying hard.

I’m tired of prioritizing everybody else above myself.

I’m tired of not giving myself time to read library books before they are due.

I’m tired of knowing what changes to make to improve my nutrition and yet changing nothing, as processed foods pour into my body daily, depleting my health in ways both seen and unseen.

I’m tired of feeling like I look even more tired than I feel.

I’m tired of my old habit of smiling constantly so that other people won’t feel threatened by me.

I’m tired of taking other people’s shit.

I’m tired of listening without returning the favor of speaking.

I know the road is both long and short, but I want it to be more joyful and less exhausting.

I’m ready to change my life because if I don’t, no one will do it for me.

The calvary may not be coming, but at last my self love has come along.

May I blaze a new trail in considering my own wants and needs, gathering energy with each step.

Anxiety, Again

It happened again.

Anxiety wrapped me up so tightly I must untangle myself with scribbles that you are kind enough to read.

Socializing leaves me aching with regret for the words I said wrong and the words I didn’t say.

I feel like a failure, even though I know that is a harsh conclusion, I feel it still.

I feel inept, like no matter what I do I won’t ever feel comfortable in social situations.

Even though I have undiagnosed autism spectrum disorder, as is more common in females. Even though I have worked painfully hard to hide my differentness, my social awkwardness rarely stays below ground for long.

In the game of whac-a-mole, the moles keep popping up no matter how many I whack.

Self-love, self-compassion, forgiveness, humor, perspective, reassurance that I belong in this human family, in this world, that I am enough, that I am worthy of love, as we all are: these are the treasures I have gathered along my journey.

These are the treasures I hope you find and cherish as well. They must be carefully cultivated, nourished and loved.

May you feel nourished and loved.

May you rest on the shores of peace.

Inhale what you need. Exhale what is no longer serving you.

All is well, even when we are under cloud cover, the clear sky remains above all.

For the duration of my whole life, the sun has never stopped shining- there were only times that I couldn’t see it.

The moon is a reminder of what I don’t see.

Maybe everybody feels this way sometimes, and it is normal and ok.

May I remember that I am blessed beyond measure even during the uncomfortable moments of this human journey.

Storms will rise, then pass.

May my breath be my anchor to weather me through until I see the sky of blue again.