I hear so many women self-deprecating, who are simply in a love-hate battle with themselves. I sometimes find myself in this battle. There are days when I stand in front of the bathroom mirror, pinching fat rolls and crying because I hate the sight of them. Or, staring into the mirror at the fine lines on my forehead and hoping that the generic wrinkle cream is as good as the name brand. But, despite my physical shortcomings, I shake myself out of the destructive thought process that seeks to make me believe my worth is based on my hip size. Sometimes, I physically shake myself but that’s usually when I’ve become fixated on a particularly ugly wrinkle.
The world has enough messages to tell us that we’re not worthy unless we fit in some pre-determined mold of acceptance. Most people who know me, are well aware of my flair for the unique. I think I broke the mold that someone tried to fit me in a long time ago. Perhaps it was from the one too many fat rolls being shoved in a teeny tiny mold but I’d like to think that it was the belief that I didn’t have to fit in a mold to learn to love myself. There are a lot of people who tell you not to love yourself because that’s selfish. Or, you can’t love yourself if you’re not a perfect size or have the perfect color hair or the perfect house. That’s not how that works. Self-love is when you can look at yourself in an objective way, accepting that you are human and have flaws, and be comfortable in your skin despite those flaws.
I know that I need to be healthier, but so does probably 90% of the American population, even those that most people would think are perfect. On my journey to adopting a healthier lifestyle, I’d rather accept myself warts and all than to continually put myself down. I also have to accept that at some point, I’m going to fail. I’m going to eat two chocolate chip cookies and later I’m going to also eat a fudge bar. It’s hard not to get in that cycle of self-hate, especially when there are so many people who want to criticize you for just about anything they can. I wear horned rimmed, cat eye glasses because I like them. However, I hear so many comments from people saying how they could never wear them. When I ask why not, the answer is generally the same, “I’m not that brave.” Waking up and getting out of the bed in the morning is an exercise in bravery, people, wearing horned rimmed glasses is a piece of cake. Life is too short to be scared of being yourself. I don’t want to get to the end of this journey and wish that I had bought just one more pink flamingo statue, no matter how tacky most people find them.
I think we all wish that we were better versions of ourselves, but some of us are waiting to love ourselves until we are those better versions. Edging up to forty, I’m wondering if perhaps I’m not already the better version of myself but I can’t see it because I’m too busy fantasizing of how I’ll look when the better me shows up. But the better me begins with loving myself, and accepting that I am a work in progress. The better me begins with waking up each day with a commitment to make better choices, to say better things, to think better thoughts. And, to stop comparing myself with everyone else.
Comparison is such a slippery slope. It’s easy to look at the exterior situation and assume so much about a person–good or bad. What we can’t see, are the demons that people fight. I catch myself sometimes saying something like, “I wish I was her” even when I don’t know squat about the person. I base my wish on physical or personality attributes that I wish I had. But, if I really knew the person and the demons she fought, would I still want to be her? When I find myself doing this, I remind myself that I don’t know what goes on behind the scenes, behind the mind, heart, and soul of the person. What if she has cancer? What if she has a dire home life situation? When it’s put in that kind of perspective, I look at my life and really appreciate what I have in front of me.
No, my house isn’t perfect. The railing on the front porch has been attacked by carpenter bees and was damaged one time when Brian took a lunge on the tractor. It’s been falling apart for two years and counting. As most everyone knows, we’ve also been fighting a mouse problem for at least the last six months. Every time I win, I find out that my victory is short-lived. No, my yard isn’t perfect. I don’t have time to garden, nor do I have a very green thumb. I only have time to dream of gardening and to look at Southern Living magazines and “wish” that my yard looked like that. The dogs have chewed up enough of my neighbor’s trash to make a new kind of eco-friendly mulch. No, my body isn’t perfect. I’ve gained so much weight in the past two years I’m ashamed to say how much. I look at my double chin and wonder if it’s the kind of double chin you get from looking at your phone too much or if it’s the kind from eating one too many Oreo’s. Unfortunately, I think it’s the latter, although there is a new kind of double chin evolving from people who stare at their phones too much. So, with all of these shortcomings swirling around in my head, how can I possibly be comfortable in my own skin?
It isn’t easy. It’s a daily battle to tell myself that I am enough. I am good enough, smart enough, pretty enough. For me. Only for me. My competition is me, myself, and I. I just have to work harder each and every day to be a better version of myself. I’m not living in anyone else’s house or body. I’m living in mine, and if I don’t appreciate and love the flaws, how can I ever truly love the things that are exquisitely me? Living on the roller coaster of low self-esteem and comparison will only lead to unhappiness because we’ll never measure up to the unrealistic standards that we see on TV or in the stories that we tell ourselves. Quit lying to yourself. You are awesome. You’re an awesomely flawed, miraculously made, work of art. Don’t let the world shrink you because you don’t fit into the mold. Break that damn mold and shove it in the trash. Fight the mental battle when you feel the urge to compare yourself to others. Wear the horned-rimmed, cat eye glasses and buy enough pink flamingoes to turn your whole house pink, if that’s what you want to do. Be enough for you, and you’ll always be enough.
Messpot Diaries 