Self-love is a funny word.
It was not us alone who helped mold our sense of self. It took years of turmoil and tribulations to realize healing could not be done without acknowledging the hurt that existed. Chips on shoulders exist because something eroded their surface with something heavy. Attitudes are not always bad ones — until they are.
As young children, we are resilient. We fall in gravel, get stitches on our foreheads and lips, and wear our band-aids proudly like badges — until we don’t. We begin pointing fingers at those still with band-aids, or the scars that lie beneath. we expect a young child to develop into an emotionally-aware, mentally developed adult without discussing dates or developmental milestones. We never got to speak about what hurts, because maybe, at the time, it didn’t. Nothing did. Those bright bandaids looked badass on you. You just wanted to match with your friends.
Once you rip those bandages off, you sometimes find out your wounds are raw. The skin underneath is broken. This time, you need adult bandages, but are afraid of fingers being pointed at you. You allow your wounds to grow infected, and you allow the hurt to grow. The infection worsens, and you are faced with the option to completely sever the source.
These wounds are made silently, slowly, seductively. Hurt feels therapeutic when we are angry at the world we were born into. Hurt is hurt, after all — it is not supposed to feel like anything other than pain and discomfort. Anything that hurts at extremes can throw our bodies into shock, and we may never recover.
We must ask ourselves questions periodically, and frequently, about what we are doing to actively heal our wounds; check in on your scars, reflect on your battles. That is the hardest part — admitting to ourselves that we were bent, worn thin, hurting. We do not want to be perceived as weak, but resilient; but, who bounces back better than a woman who has shed fresh tears? Who redeems more than a man on his knees trying for a new chance?
Am I really hurting right now? Yes. I am still living yes. Are my thoughts still mine? Yes. Is this heart still mine? Yes. I assure you, you will be fine as long as you check in with yourself. Daily, weekly, monthly. Set up time to just reflect on what hurts, why, for how long, and what you are doing to make yourself “ not sad.” Of course, I wanted to stray away from that word choice, but ultimately we are all battling different enemies — External, internal, perpetual, temporary.
Self-love. Such a word which places so much emphasis on the “self” part, without realizing sometimes it takes a village. Sometimes it takes talking to others to realize what you do not like or want to change. It takes help to establish healthy patterns and make changes to self-help techniques of coping. We are not alone on this earth, no matter how friendless we are. There is someone feeling what you are feeling (or pretty damn close) based on their tribulations and experiences. When you realize how human hurting is, you may be able to realize how human it is to experiences periods of self-hate and utter dissatisfaction with the self, and life.
Hurt is as human as growth, with physical growth coming naturally and easily. What do we do to accelerate the growth within ourselves? We find a catalyst for growth and we cling to it.
Here is a short poem to wrap it up:
how often we plant seeds
and expect them to grow with no nutrients.
it is not the sun that we need, we are not nearly plants —
we are vessels of this earth. we need light.
knowledge, insight, and epiphanies.
epiphanies based on new knowledge.
only then, can we grow?