To love yourself right now, just as you are, is to give yourself heaven. Don’t wait until you die. If you wait, you die now. If you love, you live now. —-Alan Cohen
—-As you might already know, I try to embody empowerment, rising up, hope, optimism, & loving yourself “just as you are” in most of my blog posts. This is the goal for My Inner Chick.
B u t…
If you ran across me last week, you would’ve been mortified. You would’ve been surprised. You would’ve said something like, “But Kim, I thought you were different. But you’re a FAKE, a phony, a paper-doll cutout, a counterfeit, & why should we read your words?
At least that’s how I felt for about 48 hours.
You see, I had an interview for our local television station about domestic abuse, Kay’s story, my blog, writing, mourning, murder, well, you get the idea.
When I watch the news clip later that night, I don’t hear anything about the actual content, the stuff that matters, the stuff that means something; I’m too busy examining how ghastly my hair looks (the wrong color burgundy), how old I appear (when did that happen?), the weight I had gained (was that because TV added 10 pounds?), and my voice, oh-my-god, the words gush out too quickly, too fervently, too animatedly.
I despise myself. ( for about 48 hours )
I call my girlfriend.
“Did you see the clip?” I scream.
“Yes, I looooove it. So proud of you,” she says.
“I’m fat. I’m ugly. My voice is shit. I’m old. And did you notice my hair just dangling there like wet dark hideous slimy noodles?”
A long pause.
“Excuse me, are you done?” She finally says.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“You’re beautiful, Kim. The interview was wonderful. This entire thing is bigger than you and your vanity and your stupid spaghetti hair.”
I start laughing ridiculously, fully. I can’t help it. This is what she does to me, how she makes me feel.
Then she says, “I challenge you to put your hair in rollers, wear no makeup, and post the photo on your blog.”
Thus, the (Selfie) photo… But darlings, I did wear a bit of makeup. I mean, we all have our limits, right?
—-Dear, Reader, do you love yourself “just as you are?” Do you compare yourself to others? Is there anything you’d like to change about yourself? What really matters?