A Self-love Story

Chapter 10

You'll regret those times that you've chosen the dark side. You'll regret that you haven't spent enough time being happy.

Dear Diary,

A Fo' realz gangsta don't regret his tattoos, dude wears 'em wit' pride. I saw these words sprayed painted in various colours on a wall. Graffiti, I was sure and I had almost ignored it, but a thought suddenly hit me, one that could change my life, or at least my outlook on it. Okay, maybe I was being a little overdramatic but this was still big.

I had known that the person who painted those words on that wall most likely meant it in a literal sense, but I saw it in a completely different way. I knew that it wasn't some philosophical message from a higher power or anything, but that's just the way life is, I suppose. Each of us views life differently because of the things that have happened to us. The things that happen to us are like splatters of paint that form a film of colour over our eyes. People who are angry, who fester hate in their heart will always have a vision tinged red. Every little thing will anger them. And you know, the same goes for other emotions and situations people have experienced.

So to me, the message on the wall meant that I shouldn't regret the scars that I've gotten. Both the physical and emotional ones. But how can I not? The accident that caused all of these scars on me took away all my loved ones. Or did it just show you a truth you weren't ready to accept, one that was difficult to digest? Did it show you that you placed your love and trust in the wrong people, that they never returned the sentiment? Did it not show you that you were looking at life through a rose coloured lens? My mind voice said to me.

That message stayed in my head the whole day. It was like an unwanted guest that just wouldn't leave. That annoying guest who makes a lot of noise and doesn't take a hint when you want them to leave. I had realized that I shouldn't regret the accident, but it was just so difficult. How could I suddenly start to accept myself the way I was and not want to be the way I was before? Especially when life was so perfect then. I feel like I'm damaged goods and I want to right myself, but maybe I'm not damaged, maybe I'm just...remodelled. But even then, how does that change anything? I still hate the accident for ruining my life. I still hate that it left me all alone, a shell of who I was, the happiness sucked out of me, forcing me to mature before my age. So how does that even help? And more importantly, what do I need to become happy again?

The answer came to me slowly, like a feather drifting through the air in slow, lazy circles and finally landing peacefully onto the ground with a soft sigh. Or maybe the answer was in me all along and I was just too afraid to admit it. Love. Love was the cure I needed. I was right about that all along, but what I wasn't right about was that I thought I needed other people's love, but the one person's love I needed was my own. I need to love myself, flaws and all so that I would be content in my own company. I need self-love to fill the emptiness growing in my heart. I need self-acceptance to chase away my self-consciousness and anxiousness. No wonder I have felt unloved this long. I didn't even love myself. How could I expect others to love me when I couldn't even love myself? And wasn't there a saying that said, how you love yourself is how you teach others to love you?

With great frustration, I came to the realization that once again I didn't know how to go about achieving that. Everyone talks and writes about loving others, how love can't be forced and it shouldn't be, but no one has told me how one should love themselves. Love shouldn't be forced, then is it okay that I don't love myself? No, the answer came to me immediately. Of course not, but how does one go about learning to love themselves?

That night, with the moonlight sneaking into my room and being the only witness to my actions, I stood in front of the mirror and stared into my eyes. A Fo' realz gangsta don't regret his tattoos, dude wears 'em wit' pride.