08.23.2023 ~ Self Love Means..

Self-love means not apologizing for who I am, for being "different" or "weird" or "extra." It means not feeling ashamed of the qualities that make me unique, even if they aren't acceptable to any/everyone else. It's not bowing to the pressures of society, of my family, of myself to blend in, go along with the norm just because it makes someone else feel comfortable.

Self-love means not shrinking down to be the size I think I should be, or what I was told to be. Not minimizing myself physically, mentally, or emotionally. Not feeling embarrassed by my sensitivity, realizing that it's a gift, not a fault. How many times would I shrink in shame when someone said, "Don't take this so personally! You're just too sensitive!" Who gets to define what is too much? Too big? Too loud? Too excited? Too silly? Who are the "theys" that make these rules that I have to follow?

Self-love means not worrying so much about how I look in the mirror and more about how I feel inside. That doesn't mean I stop taking care of myself, doing the things that make me feel healthy & attractive. It just means that I get to decide what I wear, how much I weigh, whether or not I grow out my grey hair or color it. It is my body, after all. I share it, yes. With my husband, in the most intimate ways. With my children, who lived literally inside it for nine months and then were fed from it for a good while afterward. With my friends and family, as I "use" various parts of my body with and for them. I use it to cook, to make, to give, to listen, to comfort. The same as they do for me. But no one owns my body, or my mind, or my soul. No one gets to make decisions for me about what I do with and how I use my body, or my mind. At least, not anymore.

One of the most wonderful parts of aging is, as my friend Rox says, the "lack of fucks given." Seriously, I care so much less about so many things that used to torment me. To think I used to angst over whether or not someone liked me. If they were going to call me, and what I'd done wrong if they didn't. To hell with that crap! If they don't like me, fine. They have that choice. I have my husband, my family, and a few very dear friends who love me, and that's really all I need.

This is not to say that I walk around being hateful to everyone I meet. Or that I am selfish and self-centered. On the contrary, I think that "giving fewer fucks" means that I have the time & energy to focus on people and things that matter. It makes me a more attentive partner, a more patient parent, more present grandparent, a more loving human overall. All of that stuff, the questioning and worrying and demeaning myself served no one, least of all myself.

For the most part, I like people. I enjoy giving my time and energy to those in need (or want), whether it be a few dollars to help support a cat rescue or devoting hours a week writing cards to strangers who just need a little boost. I've just realized that the old cliche, "you have to love yourself first" actually has some merit. I still love everyone the same as I did before; I just happen to love myself more now.

~E.Michele