I can be a hypocrite, I’ll admit it. I’m constantly telling others that they need to learn how to accept themselves, and how to love themselves, but yet, I don’t do it myself. Some days I swear I got it packed down, but the moment something or someone impacts me in a way in which it affects me emotionally, mentally, and/or spiritually, I’m right back to square one. I’m back to beating myself up for fucking something up, even if I didn’t really fuck it up, even if it was a reaction to mistreatment or abuse caused upon me, even if I think I did the right thing, even if I reacted out of love, even if I meant no harm, even if I lost control and panicked –I never fail to beat and blame myself over it. I beat myself down. I become so self-destructive, it makes me feel dysfunctional, or like I’m some kind of fuck up. I start to feel like I deserve to be punished, neglected, and abandoned, simply because of the way that I am. Why do I do this myself ? Why do I make them the victim, and me the abuser ? I don’t like myself when I get like that. I torment myself to the point where I forget the better side of me. I devalue myself like no other. It makes me want to run not only from myself, but from everyone else around me, too. Especially the ones I love the most, I feel like I’m not deserving of them or their love, like they deserve way better than me, and it makes me want to isolate.
I blame my sensitivity and my big heart for the way that I torture myself. It’s so big–it’s overpowering. Every feeling I encounter, is intensified by my heart. I love way more than I’ll ever get back, and yet, I continue to love anyway. My level of caring is so accelerated, they can never reciprocate it, they can’t even understand why I care as much as I do. I’m so kind, they don’t take me serious. I’m so forgiving, they stop feeling sorry. I’m so understanding, they invalidate my words. I’m so thoughtful, it’s exhausting to them, and when it comes to conflict, I automatically point fingers at myself. I see no wrong in them, and all the wrong in me. Even if in the back of my mind I know they’re wrong, I end up mentally abusing myself for causing them to act that way upon me to begin with. I find myself justifying their behavior towards me. I turn my back, on myself.
I understand that we all have imperfections, and a bundle of flaws that make us who we are, that no one is perfect, and that it’s okay not to be okay, but I can’t seem to accept that. I can’t seem to cut myself any slack. I hate to disappoint the ones I love, to let them down, or to not be in good terms with them. I feel so bad about it. It eats me up inside. Even through innocence and non-malicious intent, I get upset with the way that I am. I struggle accepting myself, so I seek to be accepted through others. I abuse myself even further. If they accept me, I’m worthy, but if they don’t, somethings wrong with me. Without realizing it, I’m being controlled by the opinions and actions of others, I’m measuring my worth based off the effort they put into me. They might not even realize the strong impact they have on me, and it’s most likely not their intention. I have just blindly put that responsibility on them.
It finally made sense.
I continue to lose myself because I try to find myself through others, and that’s impossible. How can I give someone else authority over my soul? Over my life? How can I see potential in someone who has no credentials ? How can I find acceptance in someone else, when the designated receiver is myself ? How can I expect them to love me, or know how to love me, when I have yet to figure out how to love myself ? I’ve been looking for love in all the wrong places.
It scares me sometimes. I worry that I won’t be able to evolve into the woman I know I can. I worry that my heart will remain so blindly innocent, it will never see wrong , even when it’s in plain sight, I’ll always deliver the benefit of the doubt. I worry that I’ll never learn to put myself first, that I’ll always put others before me, even when they don’t deserve me. That’s the shit about having a big heart, you feel bad for doing what’s best for you, even when you know you should, you still don’t–you take the pain.
I try to talk to people about the way that I feel , but it never works out. I always end up feeling worse. I’m spoken to like I’m some kind of fucked up machine that needs to be fixed, and I don’t need anyone to fix me. Sometimes I just want someone to listen, that’s all. I just want to feel normal, but the opposite occurs instead. I end up feeling like it’s me against the world, and I hate that. I hate being misunderstood, and I especially hate being singled out as if I’m the only one struggling. If I can be honest with myself, why can’t you ? It’s crazy….I can’t understand it. I don’t agree with the way we’ve come to view each other, or the expectations we have for one another. I hate how quickly someone will call you crazy, for not being how they expect you to be, and I hate the pressure society put’s upon us, in order for us to fit in. I can’t. How can you even measure insanity, within sanity ? How can you tell someone else how to be them, better than they can be them ? What makes you so much better? I really don’t get it. I don’t get how we continue to deprive each other from human nature. Maybe if we learned to be more accepting, instead of dehumanizing each other, maybe then we’d be more authentic and honest with each other , maybe then we’d have better communication amongst one another , maybe then we’d understand and trust one another, many then we’ll no longer be afraid to love one another–even if at least enough to create meaningful relationships, enough for everyone in the world, enough to uplift more of us–I swear–we’d be happier, we’d be kinder, we’d be realer, we’d have more courage, we’d stop hating ourselves for the life that was given to us by God, for the way that we look, or the way that we are. We’d appreciate each other more, we’d support each other more, we’d believe in more, we’d stop hiding and deceiving ourselves to believe we aren’t worthy enough , when in all reality–we are. We all are.
Am I really the problem if they’re the ones that continue to hide ? Am I the abnormal one if they’re the ones afraid of being normal ? Do I lose them, when I’m the one who carries a pure heart ? When I heal, and they injure ? When I don’t give up, but they do before even trying ? How are they the tough ones, when they can’t even man up to themselves ? How can they be leaders, or positive influencers, when they’re so negatively influenced by a whole lot of followers who have the habit of making others feel bad for simply being themselves ? How am I the problem when your the one who’s too self-absorbing to allow yourself to love, and be loved in return? Sad. They don’t even know what true love is, they have yet to experience a love as real and great as mine, and it shows. They’re the type to tell me that I love “too hard”, the type to not know how to handle or appreciate real women like me. It ain’t until their live’s flash before their eyes, that they begin to seek a love like mine. It ain’t until they begin to really feel lonely, that they get tired of picking and choosing, that they begin to desire a company like mine, someone as caring and affectionate as me.
I’m beginning to realize that I’m way stronger than I think I am. Something was weighing down on me. It was preventing me from being the best version of myself. That something—is me. I’m so damn strong, my heart, soul, and mind, is so damn powerful–I can’t control myself sometimes. I nearly left the real me behind. I nearly allowed myself to believe I’m not good enough, when in all reality, I am. I’m more than good enough. There’s nothing wrong with who I am, and I know better than to allow anyone or anything turn my faith into doubt. My heart will not be tamed by anyone that fails to deliver, including myself.
I forgive myself for not loving myself more, I forgive myself for not accepting all of who I am, I forgive myself for giving away my power, I forgive myself for not knowing any better, and I forgive myself for taking both, my heart and I, for granted. You would expect me to become heartless by now, but my heart is so full of love, it continues to persevere, it’s untamable.
I may have my fucked up ways, and I may have my issues,
but I clearly got the kind of love needed to solve them.
PS. To those who struggle loving and accepting themselves, your not alone, your beautiful, and your loved.