On learning to love oneself…

Recently I’ve been doing some work on myself. The kind where you look inside and think ‘Jeez, what a load of shit I’m carrying.’ This process hurts like hell. It’s wicked hard and takes pretty much your whole life to work this crap out.

But I’m slowly getting to a place where I love myself. This is BIG NEWS. A lot of the time I absolutely hate myself. Or HAVE hated myself, I should probably use the past tense as I don’t hate myself quite as much any more.

I’d recommend taking a look inside yourself, but only if you are prepared to face what’s in there. It’s not pretty.

Personally, my heart contains a truckload of wounds on the following topics – self hatred, unworthiness, little-girl-lost-ness, weak, small, uselessness, low self esteem, my body, my role as a wife and mother. The list goes on. And on.

This voice inside me has been chewing my ear off for as long as I can remember. It never lets up, it always has some criticism to offer. Today I have been listening to it, but have somehow managed to detach myself. The voice that once scared me is losing power.

I have realised that, most of the time, what the voice tells me is BULLSHIT. Most of the statements are, at best, only partly true.

It tells me I’m a bad mum – I’m not: My kids are happy and healthy and live with me, it is obviously not that bad.

It tells me I’m a bad wife – I’m not: Yes, sometimes I take my other half for granted and I should show him more respect, be kinder, listen better. But these things don’t make me ‘bad’.

It tells me I’m ugly – in whose opinion though? My body is not perfect, but then, who’s is? This stems from bullying during my childhood. I am not ‘ugly’. And my partner thinks I am beautiful and sexy, surely this is what counts? But then the voice tells me that he’s only saying it so I don’t get hurt. Well, this is a barefaced lie – a voice in MY head can also be the voice which comes out of HIS mouth? Ridiculousness. MY head cannot dictate HIS thoughts. So, I must accept that he thinks these things of me, he gives me no reason to doubt his honesty. Therefore, it must be true – he thinks I am beautiful.




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