Self Love
I sort of cringe even reading the words “self love”. I feel like it’s every where. (a sign perhaps?) It just sounds so cheesy and often I think to myself, I don’t need to read about that. I practice self love.
And I do love myself. I really do! I love being me.
But lately, (is it turning 40?) a rude renter is taking up space in my brain preventing me from being good to myself. I’m not used to this voice and frankly, have been too tired to fight her. I purposely choose a female pronoun. This bitch is a Heather. She tells me I’m weak and lazy because I’m sick, that I’m not smart, attractive, talented, strong or worthy.
I’m cringing even reading that.
It’s not me.
I’m all those things. And a hell of a lot more.
But when the tape in your head plays negative nelly on a never ending loop, you just start to nod and say yeah, you’re right. I’ve been brainwashed.
I knew shit had to change when I would say something and Peter would look at me like we’d never met before.
“This isn’t you” he finally said.
It’s not.
Onward and upward, MFs.
xo
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3 comments:
I've never met a Heather that I like. True story.
whaaa? my hero is down on herself? do i have to remind you that you are the shit? i want to be you. seriously. the real you, and the you that you make up in your mind. you are LOVED. big time.
I can so relate. That voice has taken over lately and I hate her. Hate.Her. Who is she to tell me that I'm not good enough? And why the hell do I listen to her?
PS: I think you are amazing. AMAZING. Onward and Upward, MFs? Only someone truly awesome could get away with saying that.
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