Love Letters

All this talk of self love is brutal.

I have come to understand the basics behind ideas like, “you have to love yourself before anyone else” in a much different way than I ever have before. On an intellectual level I know that I accept far worse treatment when I lack love for myself. I endured this in my life and was shown the lesson the very, very hard way for a very long time.

I absolutely believed I deserved to be treated poorly because it aligned with my self image. Through doing a lot of work and self reflection I was given the gift of humility to comprehend that I am neither better nor worse, just human. I am deserving of love, kindness and of being heard and respected.

Okay well, it’s a work in progress.

You can’t unsee some things, though. You can’t unlearn. Some questions can’t be unasked. Sometimes perspective shifts and we’re faced with a decision –

In the program it’s posed this way: “go on to the bitter end, or try to find a new way of life”

I’m not one looking to settle on bitter.

New way of life it is! I took my life and shook it like a snow globe. I saw something the other day that talked about starting over in midlife in a way I hadn’t seen before. It talked about how it doesn’t feel brave, but rather embarrassing. It hasn’t been an immediate transformation into a self assured, take no shit divorcee, that’s for certain.

I have an opportunity to spend time with myself. I have an opportunity to live in my home with my kids and create a bond and safety. One small problem, though…

I’m not who I want to spend time with.

This leveled me last week. Completely brought me to my knees. I was in full screaming at the sky mode over here, completely unhinged because every time I’m alone I wish to god I wasn’t.

I don’t want to be my own hero, man. I don’t like me. I feel nauseous at affirmations. I have this very firm wall built around treating myself with kindness.

When we moved into our house I started using a composition book as a to do list. It worked for awhile and then, as with all things of an organizational nature, I stopped.

I try to maintain it but the spark is gone when it’s gone.

Tonight I walked around the kitchen and tidied. I set my coffee up for tomorrow and then noticed the composition book on the counter. I opened it intending to start a list, to try again at being the person who found that useful. Instead, I found myself writing a pep talk to my morning self.

“good morning you beautiful goofball,” it began. I went on to write a note of encouragement to my future self with ease.

I guess saying kind and loving things to myself in the mirror is a bit lofty for someone like me. Writing love letters to myself is somehow not so hard.

I think it’s a practice worth trying.