On Friday morning I woke up with a heaviness in my chest and stomach. I wondered out loud what it was. With my left hand over my heart, and my right hand on my diaphragm, I said, “What’s going on here?”
“I love you when you’re ugly,” was my response.
Strange enough, I could feel a stirring in my heart.
“I love you when you don’t go to the gym. I love you when you don’t exercise at home.”
“I love you when you are afraid to put yourself out in the world. I love you when you don’t work on your book. I love you when you don’t say exactly what you mean.”
The heaviness was lifting. I wanted to be loved when I didn’t do the right things, say the right things, or think the right things. I want to know I am loved when I am not at my best.
“I love you when you’re fat. I love you when your thighs stick out, your belly isn’t firm and your arms shake. I love you when you sit all day.”
“I love you when you forget the laundry in the washer for three days. I love you when you don’t make the bed, when you don’t put away your dirty dishes, and I especially love you when you don’t feel like doing anything at all.”
“I love you when you don’t give yourself enough credit. I love you when you think you aren’t lovable. I love you when you think you aren’t enough.”
Goodness! I was starting to see flashes of all of the times I silently put myself down. Just a glance in the mirror, or a quick comment in my head. Could it really be that many times in a day? Ten times a day, twelve times a day?
Yes, I have about 60,000 thoughts or more a day. When I say it that way, it probably is a lot more times. Wow!
A wise woman once said that if I talked to my friends the way I talked to myself on a regular basis, I wouldn’t be my friend. I understand she means.
Starting today, now, I am going to be kinder to myself. I am going to remember to love myself. How about you? Would you like to join me?