03 Aug i hate me. love, me.
1) I’m working with a group of women to plan a workshop that we will deliver to other women in India. It’s going to be phenomenal. It’s building, it’s brewing, it’s developing right now, in each of our hearts and in our discussions. Last week, we discussed a crazy taboo topic: honoring your desires. We discussed how many of us have mistakenly convinced ourselves that it is bad, sinful, selfish, or wrong to pursue the ‘desires of our hearts’- it is NOT. We talked about how those desires are deeply enmeshed in who we are. Those desires, dare I suggest, were implanted in us… by design, embedded. <gasp!>
2) I recently posted on my Facebook page about a brilliant young man who is challenging norms and changing the world by creating thought provoking, poetry-ridden videos that are shared to viral proportions. He said MLK, Jr. didn’t have a dream; a dream HAD HIM! Our dreams find us. They seek us out and latch on and refuse to let go. If only we would stop resisting and start believing! What a concept!!!!! I don’t know this man, but I’d like to. He is a World Changer. He gave me so much to think about in one video (and check out You Tube…he has tons of videos) that I had to share with my FB Community. It was too much to keep just for myself.
3) Yes, I know I said ‘two things’ but I gotta tie this bow, ok? This week, I am traveling for work. I’m in hot, sticky Dallas… a place I love but definitely don’t belong in purely from a ‘humidity vs. my hair’ standpoint. Today I went to the gym after work. Yes, friends. I worked out. While getting dressed, I hated myself. While on the treadmill, I hated myself. (Weight lifting friends, don’t lose focus here. I know alllllll about your opinions about cardio vs. weights. Stay with me.) While watching the 20-something bodybuilder lift the heaviest weights in the dang hotel, I hated myself. While doing situps, I hated my body, I criticized my commitment, I compared myself to others. Not people in the gym, mind you. It was just lil ole me and the 20-something Adonis. I compared myself to women who do life better than me, who look better than me, who eat better and work out better. You know how it goes. It was exhausting! But I wasn’t done. I’m committed to this… I hated myself for quitting early, for sweating, for having a red face, for being fat, for being lazy, for making bad choices… all this while working out. Imagine that. I even came back to the room, chugged some water, and did MORE!
I was knee deep in the throes of self-hate when I looked into the mirror and decided to make a change. Self talk is super powerful. I stopped in my tracks, I looked into my own eyes, and I told myself I was pretty.
Now read this slowly:
Then I scoffed at my reflection, sneered at my own face, and said, “Yeah, pretty fat.”
Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy? I would never, ever say that to a friend. I just wouldn’t. But today, I realized I am a bully to myself. A critic. An emotional abuser. (I know what they sound like because I’ve lived with one before…) I talked to myself with such derision, disgust, disdain. I shocked myself in that moment and decided that was the end. I was going to choose to congratulate myself on the awesome workout after a long day. On the dedication to pack gym clothes when all I really wanted was to pack wine! I forgot my shoes (if you are Facebook friends with me on my personal page, you read about that saga!) and I went immediately to DSW and bought new gym shoes so I had no excuses!!! I patted myself on the back for THAT! Okay? That was huge.
Seriously, friends. I felt like I was dying in the gym, but I finished. I didn’t quit. I didn’t do what my ‘fit friends’ can do, but comparison is the enemy of joy! I did what I could do and it was more than I could do last week. I don’t know the name of all the exercises I did. I watched a video for some of it, and copied the trainer. I remembered some moves from my previous ‘fit life’ and did those too. I seriously wanted to cry when I was flat on my back with my legs on the big huge rubber ball, pulling it toward my bootie with my heels on the ball. WHAT IS THAT? It’s painful, that’s what it is. Hamstrings crying, bootie dying, pain.
Can’t I just live inside of the SnapChat app? I mean, I am so perfect in that app. It has distorted my reality. Are you on SnapChat? It’s addictive. Hilarious, and amazing, and addictive. (Don’t even get me started on how firmly tied my self esteem is to looks… When I looked in the mirror, all I saw were flaws. When I decided to make a change, I still only focused on the external. Why didn’t I tell myself I am worthy of love… I am kind… I’m caring, joyful, generous? Ah, that is the subject of a future blog, for sure.)
Anyway, back to my story. I got to my hotel room and realized I wasn’t actually dying. Weird. I could have sworn I was. So I did pushups. Just 10, but 10 perfect pushups with my chubby arms! Guys, do you see what I am doing? Even when I compliment myself there is an undertone of comparison or criticism. A hint of failure. I watched a show on my favorite Olympic female volleyball player tonight and I couldn’t stop staring at her arms. I want those arms but will I sabotage myself with self-hatred the whole time I’m working for those dang arms? Maybe I need to examine a deeper issue. Does my self-worth change when I get those arms? Does my true worth change? Dear baby Haysoos, what happens if I never achieve those arms?
It. Is. So. Hard. To. Be. Kind. To. Myself.
But I will keep trying. I will love myself and accept myself and cheer for myself. I must. I need to, I have to, I want to. I waaaaant to love myself.
So. I shared with you the discussion I had last week with my new favorite group of women (world changers, really). And I shared with you the impact that brilliant video had on me (another world changer). And I shared with you my experience tonight in the gym and later in my hotel room. But here is the most amazing, incredible, serendipitous thing that hppened next… I just read a facebook post by one of my fave writers and it was alllllll about women who hate themselves! OMG, Elizabeth Gilbert is yet another World Changer!!
Um hello, Perfect Timing, I’m Holly.
Nice to meet you.
What are the odds?!?
I just HAD to share this sequence of events because it couldn’t have been more perfectly packaged or earned more of my attention if a hot UPS driver had delivered it himself. This message was designed for ME (and I think maybe a few of you too)! First it was the revelation that our heart’s deepest desires do NOT need to be supressed or second-guessed. Second came the idea that my dreams found me! Not the other way around! And the third and most powerful message was confirmation of a feeling that has been brewing within me… It was time to love myself allow myself to be real, not perfect. When something is so good, so perfectly orchestrated, so impeccably timed, we have the obligation, the duty, the privilege to share it with those we love.
Friends, let’s be kind to ourselves! Let’s allow room in our hearts for the deep desires and let’s indulge ourselves in the possibilities of our dreams. We don’t need to dismiss our deepest wish or diss our most fantastic dream. We don’t need to be so obsessed with the external and all consumed with perfection. No. We neeeeeeed to love ourselves. Right now, today.
How do we do it? How do we include our ‘selves’in the love movement that is happenin gall around us? Do we need a 21-day challenge? (Ha! Gym reference there…) Every glance in the mirror deserves a pause, some direct eye contact, and a compliment to our interior! Do we need 5 affirmations before we leave our house? Do we need to stop ourselves in our tracks, or say “NO!” out loud when we hear the critic’s voice rise up from within? I don’t know what it’s going to take to create a self-love practice… I just know I am in. Whatever it takes. All in. I want to be kind to myself and I want you to be kind to yourself. Let’s right the wrongs and figure this shiz out and make our self-talk good and reflective of our self-love rather than our self-hate!
You know who we should be mad at? These folks.
I mean, if ever there was someone who needed to get it together, it’s the Reese’s.
Ok, enough for now. Watch the video. Read her post (just click the links highlighted in blue within this post). Feel the gut punch and the warm hug, then change your self-talk. I will too, k?
Love you. Love me.
P.S. I took both of these pics today. Of course I love the pic of the girl with the SnapChat filter better! Of COURSE! I think I love HER better, not just the pic. But she isn’t me. Not really. The other chick is. The sweaty one who worked herself out at the gym and beat herself up. The one who thought she would die if she didn’t immediately cease use of that huge rubber ball. The one who hurt her own feelings then did 10 pushups because she could and she wanted to and she was determined. That’s the real me. That version of me is unfiltered, and worthy of so much love. I love her too. (Not as much, but I’ll learn. I am learning.)