I know what I bring to the table, do you?

How can we truly love ourselves in a world that profits off our self-hatred? Influencing, surgery, photo editing. It’s all pitting us against ourselves, forcing us to create a picture that doesn’t truly reflect who we are and what we have to offer. It’s who we think we need to be, to be accepted, and to be loved. The ultimate price for low self-esteem is the treatment we become willing to accept. Learning to cherish yourself, will raise your standards on what you’ll put up with, and teach you to accept nothing less than what you know you deserve.  Infact, the way we look is usually the least interesting thing about us.

When I was around 10 years old, I was on a holiday in Scotland, well, I say holiday, but we were just visiting family up there. On this particular visit my dad took me to his friend's house, a photographer, he said. I put my hair back in a little headband, matching with my scarf, of course. Excited to go and meet a photographer, as a creative child, anyone who was a creative adult intrigued me.

This guy seemed nice, from what I can remember, your average middle-aged Scotsman. I don't remember whose idea it was, but someone suggested that he takes my portrait. So, as an obedient kid in the company of someone new, I obliged and posed. As uncomfortable as I felt with a strange man taking my photo, I didn’t want to kick up a fuss. Then after he snapped a few shots, Mr Photographer took us to his computer. 

It was, of course, one of the big grey box computers, in a little room full of wooden selves, piled high with lenses, all sorts of gadgets and prints. He pulled my photo up on the screen, into some sort of ancient photo editing software and zoomed in. 

On. Everything. 

Before I knew it, he was walking us through how he's going to try to remove the blemishes and redness from my face. Make my eyes brighter. Make my lips look a little fuller. Make my hair look a little neater.

Just things to make the photo ‘better’ he said. To me, it wasn't the photo he was making better, it was me. My face. A spectacle to be viewed and commented on. A new type of vulnerability I hadn't yet experienced.

I know now, that's where it started. My insecurities and being completely self-aware of how someone can look at you and want to improve what they see.  How simply existing wasn't enough. At 10 years old. That's the moment, when my innocent eyes were widened to the toxicity of self-deprecating thoughts. 

Then there was bullying at school, and the competition. Goofy was the no.1 thing. As a young child I sucked my thumb for comfort which continued when my adult teeth grew in, and as a result, my two front teeth grew in crooked and warped towards each other. The first insult someone would throw at me in a disagreement was ‘goofy’. I was already aware of my wonky smile, but I didn’t care, until I did. Those voices soon absorbed into my self-talk and created a deep hatred towards my own smile. I’m sure most of us still carry the voices of bullies in our adult heart.

Those voices then rooted in my psyche and became my own. I started to pick myself apart, daily, without even being aware of it. It grew. I looked at myself differently from then on. Fat. Ugly. Spotty. Goofy. Messy. Unlovable. 

Then what followed a few years later was the surge of the Snapchat filters. The doggy ears, the smoothness, the teeth whitening, the cute one with the flower crown. When I looked at myself in a photo with a filter on, I felt attractive. You couldn't see my red cheeks, or my slightly off-white teeth, and how patchy my cheap makeup was. This fuelled the fire of hatred my young mind had already spent years keeping alight. It fed the monster of self-loathing that I already couldn't tame. It grew. I thought I found a love for myself, but it was a love with conditions.

So, when did that cycle end and how the fuck did I put a stop to it? If I’m being completely honest, it's not something that one day you just stop doing. Click of a finger and you just no longer bully yourself and it’s suddenly nothing but love and light? No, it’s a change of mind frame that will require constant work, and evolution, especially as your physical body grows and goes through changes too. The good news is that the voice of criticism will fade when it no longer holds power. It will no longer shout, it’ll whisper.  So, that’s the first step, how do I make that voice quieter and make the voice of self-love louder?

Deleting all my social media helped quieten that voice ALOT. I no longer took photos of myself analysing how they will be perceived by hundreds and even thousands of people, people who had no idea who I was. I no longer spent hours scrolling and comparing. I took photos of myself to feel good, when I felt good. I then stumbled upon literature about beauty standards and the male gaze, and self-expression. It made me realise I had no idea who I was, and how I wanted to look or act, away from the conditioning of society.

That’s when I started making choices (as discussed in previous blog post ‘The Choice’), where I started experimenting with my own self-expression and not being afraid to fail, or change my mind. I stopped thinking about what I thought was deemed ‘beautiful’ by the world around me and started thinking about what I thought was cool. I started thinking about little me, what she thought was beautiful and how would she want to express herself. 

Then it went deeper, beneath the surface level of my human body and how I appeared in the world and online, and I went on a journey into why I suppressed so much of my personality to be palatable to others.  Why do we do that? Shink and change ourselves to fit in? For me, as a child I was told to shut up and listen, to turn the music down, to sit quiet, I was told by teachers that I talk too much, that I’m wasting my potential by being creative, that I was simply, too much. So, I learnt that as a child that to be accepted and to be loved, I needed to suppress those parts of myself that stood between me, and attachment to others. Survival. As it happens, all the things that I was criticised for as a child, are the things that I am so loud and proud about now. What parts of yourself have you suppressed since being a child as a condition for attachment? Begin to allow them space to exist now in your adult life without fear.

I started doing the cliche thing of talking to myself in the mirror, affirmations about how beautiful I am. How I deserve happiness and success. How I am abundant in the skin I am in. How I accept myself wholly. I faked it, until I meant it. I repeated, until it became auto pilot. I tried my best to never let the negative thoughts win. I spoke about it in therapy and learnt how to recognise what voice was my own, and what was the voice of others, and utimately, how to stop listening to it. Journalling, as always, has been a huge tool for me in every part of my healing journey, but especially useful in learning to love myself and rewriting the internal self-deprecating monologue I have always narrated.  

4^th December 2022

I feel called to write myself a love letter, from myself. So, here goes.

To me, 

I don't want this to sound cliche, but I do love everything about you. But let’s start with the physicality's. I love the little freckles in your deep, beautiful hazel eyes. I love the cute eyelashes that you have, that sit gently on your slightly slanted eyelids. I love your soft eyebrows, and all the other little hairs that appear on your face. I love how your freckles on your nose and cheeks come out after some time soaking up the sun. I love your small subtle mouth, with full gentle lips that protect your slight off-white crooked teeth. 

I love your smile, in all its glory, and all its imperfections. I wish you understood and could feel the way that your smile alone could light up any room, that your energy is infectious. Even to the month troubled of people. I love your dainty ears, even if they do need a good clean most of the time. I love your hair, and the fact you had the courage to get it cut short – how you wanted it. It suits you so much and I’m so proud of you for rocking it. 

I love your strong masculine shoulders. I love your long arms, your petite hands and piano fingers. I love that you even hold a pen in your own unique way. I love that your handwriting changes depending on your mood, it's so cool. I love your sometimes smelly hairy armpits. I especially love it when you dye them funky colours. I love your unnecessarily large boobs, and your gorgeous, pierced nipples. I love the way they lay on top of your ribcage, almost as a protection of your heart. I love your stomach and the way it feels. I love your wide hips and your big bum. I love the way your body curves, your soft skin.

I love your pizza freckles on your left arm! I love your beautiful vagina; she is so delicate and perfect. I love your thick, juicy thighs, and the way your legs curve down to your muscular calves. I love your feet, hard skin and all, even those slightly webbed toes. I especially love your big toe, just as much as I love your miniscule, little toes. I love every millimetre of your body. You are so strong, and beautiful and gentle. 

I love when you cry at something when it's too happy, just as much as you do when it's something sad. I love how much you feel that everything is so deep and profound to you, even the smallest of issue, idea or emotion, to you, is amplified as soon as it enters your brain, or your aura. I love how optimistic and positive you are; you help and want to heal the whole world, then find the next civilized life form and heal them too. I love that about you. You are so inspirational, truly. Not only for yourself, but to anyone that has ever had the pleasure of being graced with your presence. 

I love how much you love animals, how you can physically tap in and communicate with your own animals too, its magical every time I witness it. I love how you decided to direct your healing energy inwards and have continuously stood up for yourself and what you believe is right. You are so courageous and always have been. I love how stubborn, strong willed and sarcastic you can be. Communication and intelligence have always been your most successful and effective form of both weapon and defence, and I love how you have always used them with such grace and seamless execution. I love your inner knowing and your talent for expressing yourself through art, music, writing. I love every single piece of art your delicate dainty hands have ever produced. I love that you are writing your own path in life. I love that despite the trauma, abuse, neglect, pain, suffering and anguish that you have experienced in this lifetime, hasn’t made you give up. I love that you are asking for and finally receiving the support and help that you have always needed and craved. 

I love how emotional you are. I love how angry one minor injustice can make you. I love the fiery passion that seeps through your veins every single day. I love that you are discovering selfishness in replacement to self-lessness, and I love watching you learn about boundaries, and then getting to watch you put them into practice. I love the sanctuary that you have created for yourself, and your cats. I love how much you love bodies of water, and I love how big your heart is, how wise your soul is and how quick your mind is. 

I love that I am going to watch you reach the hearts and brains, and souls of so many people in this world. I love that you are beginning to tell your story, and I love that everyone is going to love you, just maybe not quite as much as I do. 

I love you, eternally, forever. 

Love, 

Me 

Where I sit now, is a place of not only acceptance for the body I am in, but overbearing love, appreciation and gratitude for it too. For my whole being, and especially for the soul that resides behind the skin. Don’t get me wrong, it’s still a daily battle, but it’s a battle I’m slowly winning. The negative thoughts don’t hold as much weight as the positive ones now.  I wear cheap little butterfly hair clips to honour my younger self. I sometimes consciously let my armpit hair grow, and I buy clothes that are comfortable and expressive.

I implore you to start being delusionally in love with yourself.  So, when someone does compliment you, you don’t shy away and tell yourself they don't mean it, internally, you’ll agree, you know you’re worthy of love because you’re already loving on yourself. ‘You’re so funny!’ Thank you (I know I am). ‘You’re beautiful!’ Thank you (I know I am). Even if its uncomfortable, do it uncomfortable. You’ll train your psyche to look at yourself through a positive lens, little by little. I remember my bio on Tinder for months was ‘I know what I bring to the table, do you?’. I laugh about it now, the obnoxious confidence, but at the same time, I was right. I knew exactly what a gem I am, and I wasn’t about to let low self-esteem make me settle for less than what I want, even on Tinder.

Self-love isn't a magic pill you need to swallow, and poof, you’re ‘fixed’. It’s a lifelong journey, but it’s one of the most worthwhile journeys you can embark on. Remember, the only person you're letting down is yourself by not tackling this narrative you chain yourself too, and the only people who profit are the ones who thrive from keeping you down. When you feel yourself slipping, picture younger you, THAT is who you're talking to when you beat yourself up. Without a doubt it requires you to locate the source(s) of negativity, uproot them, and plant new seeds in their place.

Tend to them, water them, watch them grow.

14^th February 2023

Happy Valentines Day to me!

I just wanted to do a nice little I love me moment to practice some self-love, and since it's the season it only felt appropriate to whip the pink pen out and get cracking. 

I love how amazing I am at singing.  I love all my tattoos. I love my style.  I love my bravery.  I love my determination. I love my optimism.  I love my strength. I love how emotional I am.  I love how caring I am towards others. I love my cats. I love my hairy armpits. I love the person I have grown to become. I love all of the mistakes I’ve made. I love every failure or rejection I’ve had.  I love how needy I can be.  I love how hopelessly romantic I am.  I love how messy I can be.  I love my free spirit.  I love my brain.  I love my old soul.  I love my whole body, inside and out. I love my huge heart. I love all my fears and anxieties.  I love my dreams every night.  I love that I got sober. I love how much I look after myself. I love how good I am at cooking.  I love all my crystals.  I love music.  I love my tarot deck.  I love my journal. I love how creative I am.  I love that I’m going to be living in a campervan.  I love my campervan.  I love the moon. I love the stars.  I love the ocean.  I love the sky.  I love how connected I am spiritually.  I love being an empath.  I love my mam, my brother, my sister, my nieces and nephew. I love how much support financially I’m getting.  I love how my future looks. I love women.  I love my inner child, and shadow self.

 I am so full of love for myself, and for the world and for the people around me and in my life. I honestly feel so so so proud of myself for the person I have always been, inspiring, brave, courageous, intelligent, sexy, strong, vulnerable, emotional, optimistic, trusting, friendly, I love my whole being, from my body, to my mind, to my soul. 

I love you.