Hola amigos, it’s that time of the week again!
Let’s talk about compassion. I know, I know. I beat the damn subject to death. Today is different, though, because I’m not discussing having compassion for other people. Today I’m talking about having compassion for ourselves.
Why is it that most of us find it so easy to lift other people up as if they’re balloons and we’re helium, and in the same breath, sink ourselves like anchors? You know, the whole “No Karen. You’re not ugly. You’re like, super gorgeous. My pores are as big as suitcases. I pack toiletries in my face when I go on vacation!” thing. I don’t know about you, but I am a regular offender. My sense of humour has always been a little self-deprecating. As much as I am proud of my ability to laugh at myself, I’m starting to see that it’s more of a defense mechanism than anything. I think it’s my way of making fun of myself before anybody else has the chance.
Today I had my second session of therapy. My therapist asked me to pretend that my adolescent self was seated in the chair next to me, describing her story. She then asked me how I would respond to that little girl. My heart broke a little bit. I wouldn’t say ANY of the things to her that I do to myself on a daily basis. All I could think to tell her was how much potential she had, and not to worry, because she was beautiful and funny and smart and fucking badass.
I’m coming to the conclusion that I don’t need to make fun of myself anymore. I don’t need to beat other people to the punch, because here’s my nub: People who make a point to discuss my flaws are ASSHOLES. They’re assholes, and I don’t want to socialize with those people in the first place. So why do I care so much what they might think? A wise woman once told me “It’s none of your business what other people think about you.” At the time, it felt abrupt, like a cuff to the noggin’. In retrospect, it makes so much sense and I’m so glad that she had the balls to give me that little nugget of advice.
If I really think about it, the only words that ever hurt me were the ones that I believed to be true, and the majority of those words did not roll off of the lips of other people. Nobody can hurt my feelers like I can. From now on, I’m going to make a point to try to catch myself before I say “Oh, duh. I’m stupid.” or “It looks like I’m hiding a dinner roll in my pants.” I know that old habits die hard, but I’ve taken the first step. And when I inevitably fail, I will accept it. I will remind myself with kindness and patience.
Let’s try to be a little sweeter to ourselves, shall we? Tell me all about the things that make you an outstanding person. You can find me here, via Twitter, or Facebook. I always enjoy hearing from those of you that are taking the journey to self-acceptance, too.