I really tried to type up a list of things I love about myself but I couldn’t do it. It’s not that I don’t like myself but blowing my own trumpet is something I find incredibly difficult. I thought I’d ponder why it’s so bloody hard to do that instead. It couldn’t be easier to cheer for our friends – or loudly assure them of all the reasons they’re the bomb. It rolls off the tongue like water off a duck and yet, asked to come up with one or two good qualities about ourselves and we’re stuck. Or is it just me?
I know it isn’t. I actually did manage to draft a post but I read it back and cringed. I couldn’t share it and now it lies unpublished in my trash folder. I don’t think it’s for me to say whether I’m funny or bright – or empathetic or wise. Maybe I am a few of those things, maybe I’m none but I’m quite sure I’ve been conditioned not to say it myself. And that’s just it isn’t it? As women we’re not supposed to love ourselves because so much rides on us wanting to change everything about ourselves. Mentally, we’re damned if we do, damned if we don’t – we’ll always be too loud, too quiet, too smart, too vacuous, too intimidating, on and on it goes. And physically, we’ll never be enough because if we were, we wouldn’t buy all the lotions and potions designed to make us glow like 90’s supermodels.
I’ve fallen into the trap here, I realise and it has to stop. Learning to love and celebrate who we are, as we are now and not as we could be, is punk rock as fuck. A truly radical act. If we could just love ourselves unconditionally, and learn how to shout about it – then couldn’t we do anything? I even typed ‘warts and all’ and I thought, why even say that? Warts (or perceived imperfections) are only considered such because we’ve been told they don’t fit the ideal template – the accepted idea of beauty. FUCK THAT.
So, in the spirit of tussling with the notion that we shouldn’t talk about the things we love about ourselves, here goes: I’m creative, empathetic and an excellent listener – I have a great butt and nice eyes. I’m emotionally intelligent and pretty fun to be around. I also really like my rounded belly which has sized up over lock-down and brings me massive comfort at night, when I rest my hands on it. I love myself because of these things and not despite of them.
Sometimes it’s really hard for most people to say what they love about themselves but who cares you should love yourself for who you are and what you are
LikeLiked by 1 person
Nice eyes? NICE? Pish! Amazing beguiling eyes! I love your lush lips too, wish mine were fuller like yours. But yes it’s not just you. I have a REALLY hot neighbour in my block and my friends keep telling me to ask him out and I’m just like nah, he won’t be interested in me. And while I do know I’ve got some stonking qualities, I do still very firmly sit in the “I’m ugly” camp. And I know, until I can stop thinking that, and get on board with the self love, no-one else is going to love me either. It’s a vicious circle. But sadly one I’ve not managed to crawl out of.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh you. You’re cute AF babe so I say go charm him! I think we’re so socialised to see all the bad and I’m done with it. We should all refuse to swallow that rethoric anymore. Easier said than done though, huh? Love you xo
LikeLiked by 1 person