I’ve always struggled with the self-love concept. I speak to myself in ways I would never speak to other beings, I almost constantly beat myself up with cruel thoughts, I metaphorically tattoo insults on my forehead and walk away from direct compliments thinking “what’s the catch?” Why is it so fucking hard to love ourselves?
My struggle with self-love has caused a lot of harm to me and to others, so I threw out a Valentine’s self-love challenge on Facebook. The idea is that this Valentine’s, instead of the commercial celebration shit, let’s use the month to better our relationship with ourselves.
The self-love challenge
“Every day commit to doing something to show yourself love. Exercise, create, read, be in nature, give a gift. Whatever. At the end of the day, write an item of gratitude to yourself for something you did, or something you like about yourself. Keep them to read on Valentine’s Day. That can be your gift to yourself. Who’s joining me?”
So many people responded with “I’m in”, or “beautiful”, “love this idea”, “sharing this”. People started celebrating a renewed awareness of self. Some friends became conscious of the self-love acts they were already doing but just didn’t know it. Like the friend who suddenly realised that her everyday dog walks were not just for her four-legged friend’s health and happiness, but for hers too.
Others became conscious of self-love acts they’d stopped doing. Like the friend who suddenly realised that she’d stopped treating herself to pedicures when her baby was born, and in the spirit of the self-love challenge, she booked her first pedicure appointment in months.
As for me, I’ve been gifting myself with self-love acts like late night swims, walking, seeing friends, going to “my” hill and experiencing a moment of serenity and connection, buying vegan cream cheese (if you aren’t vegan, just accept that vegan cheese = love), and being grateful to myself for how far I have come emotionally in the last couple of years … and for letting go.
Even on the hard days when my shitty self-esteem ties a rock around its neck and tries to go swimming and I punish myself for every mistake I make, I remind myself that at least I’m a good rat mom.
And then I remind myself about the advice I would give to my younger self if I could
- When shit gets to you, go to a mountain. Try figure out how much older than you it is. If that’s not enough – look at the stars and see how tiny you are. Don’t take yourself too seriously.
- Age is not just a number. It’s knowledge. It’s not something to be feared, but rather a point of gratitude of having lived and learned so far.
- People are beautiful. People are shit. Choose wisely and remember there are pretty fairy tales, but real magic is in action.
- Feelings are wonderful and dangerous. Never run from them, nor let them own you.
- You can overcome most things, at least ones I’ve encountered so far. Give yourself some bloody credit.
- You will always have the sky.
- Do more art.
- Be nicer to yourself.
- Drugs are baaad, m’kay?
Let’s be our gifts to ourselves in more ways, more often.
So I’m going to ask again. Who’s with me?
