More Self Love

Love Myself.

"Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony." -Mahatma Gandhi

I decided it was time to start loving myself.

And not just in the superficial sense of self-love, like exercising regularly and watching less TV. It was time to really, fully and wholly love myself–top to bottom, inside and out.

To love myself to the point of waking up every morning with a heart overflowing with gratitude for all I was blessed with in life. To love myself unconditionally–quirks, flaws, occasional potty mouth and all. To love myself the way I hoped for someone else to one day love me. Fiercely, and unafraid to show it.

But this story didn't start this time; it's been a long time in the making. Everyday I always think:

"Are you happy with who you are?"

I couldn't find the words to respond. Not because I didn't know the answer, but rather because I knew it instantly.

After a few suffocating moments of silence, the best I could do was shake my head "no" as more tears, now double the size, rolled down my face.

I didn't like who I was or who I had been. I most certainly didn't love myself. And it was in that moment I came to the crushing realization that it was all my fault.

It wasn't for lack of trying. I wanted to love myself–desperately, even. But what I eventually came to understand was this:

When you're making poor choices, choices that defy what you know in your heart to be right, you never will know self-love.

The months leading up to that moment in some place had been particularly difficult for me. I reached a truly low point in terms of my self-esteem, and it was all because of a series of choices I'd made–choices that I was not proud of, and did not reflect the kind of person I wanted to be.

First Came Choices

Every day, we are choosing. We may not choose our circumstances, but we choose how we react. In fact, the only thing truly within our control is ourselves and our choices. It's all we have.

So even when other people hurt us, when our pain is the direct result of someone else's choices, the choice is still ours whether we let that pain suffocate us, or if we let it go. Move on. Forgive.

For far too long, I felt the pain and emotional bruising from distant moments I should have long-since forgiven as sharply as if they had just happened yesterday. For far too long, I held onto resentment, blaming others for my choices.

The choice to numb the pain with too much alcohol too often. The choice to keep traveling when my body screamed to slow down. The choice to spend undue time and emotional energy on relationships that weren't meant for me.

I was all too aware of my faults, and for far too long, I had done nothing to correct them. I was avoiding responsibility for the shitty outcomes of my poor choices which, as one of my favorite authors points out, wasn't doing me any favors.

"We all love to take responsibility for success and happiness...But taking responsibility for our problems is far more important, because that's where real learning comes from. That's where real-life improvement comes from. To simply blame others is only to hurt yourself. -Mark Manson." - The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck

I knew my business needed to start supporting me financially or I would be up a shit creek without a paddle. And so I made the choice, over and over again, to put my work ahead of my own pleasure.

Other times, I purposely isolated myself. I sat alone in the corner, or alone in my room, or alone at the dining table in the middle of the afternoon.

Funnily enough, I still found plenty of time to enjoy myself, too. But the best part of it all was the sense of pride that arose from finally making choices that aligned with what I wanted in my heart–for this thing called blogging to be my ticket to the life I'd been chasing for two years now, a life of freedom and being my own boss.

When I finally began making choices that I respected, my "luck" began to change. Seemingly all at once. For a brief moment, I could breathe again.

The positive changes that came out of that time were all the reassurance I needed to know that I was on the right path, that I was inching ever closer to living my truth, to knowing myself, and ultimately loving myself.

Then Came Growth

As time wore on, personal development became my addiction. I dedicated late nights and early mornings to my work. In my leisure time, I read self-help books.

Much like the early lessons, the new lessons I was learning didn't always register right away. I had to chew on them for awhile to release the subtleties, the nuances, the complexities.

But all the while, I could feel myself changing. I could feel myself growing more aware of who I was, how I acted, even what my heart wanted (some might call that "intuition")–and that awareness allowed me to make better choices and know when to alter my course.

"There is no way out. There is no way out. I kept repeating it in my head. I felt like I could will myself to death with those words. But I couldn't. I had kids. I had to get better. I had to." -James Altucher,

Feeling someone else's pain, even through the vast distances of space and time, always helps put our own pain into perspective. It doesn't diminish it or make it any less real, but it helps us to realize that if someone can be pushed to such extremes and still find the power to choose themselves, well, so can we.

I found my way back to yoga, which has been perhaps the most transformative practice of all.

The very first intention I set on that very first day was the very thing that drew me back to the mat in the first place: to know myself.

One major difference between this new undertaking and my casual yoga habit of days past is that I no longer regarded it as a fitness tool. Breaking free from that old assumption (and the desire to look good in yoga pants) allowed me to see yoga for what it really was: a powerful vehicle for self-exploration.

For me, it is the ultimate display of self-love, showing up on my mat for a moment of mindfulness. A great butt and toned tummy–should they appear one day–would simply be a side effect of choosing myself.

And my god, it felt so good to choose myself for once. And that month of self-care? It's been extended indefinitely. Good choices beget good choices, as it turns out.

That's not to say that life is fine and dandy as a result or that I don't still experience deep pain. I endure bouts of crushing self-doubt on a near-daily basis. I torment myself with "what ifs" that have no right to take up headspace. I still sometimes wonder–and maybe I always will–what if this all comes crashing down tomorrow?

But self-love is a process, one that will never be truly complete. There will always be more I could improve, more I can learn, more kindness I can show to myself and others.

And in the vein of extending that kindness to myself, I constantly need reminding that yes, I am deeply flawed in many ways, but that is what makes me human, and I deserve love anyway.

I am still on the path to loving myself and to knowing and living my truth. I can say in all honesty that I love myself now more than ever, and I know I will come to love myself more deeply in the future.

What's most important, however, no matter where I am in the process of self-love is to remember...

I am enough.