love you


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?