Day 2: Big Changes

Wow. Only 2 days of trying to learn how to love myself, and I am already changing in big ways.

Yesterday, I did some research into what it means to love yourself. I mean, it's kind of hard for me to wrap my head around. A quick google search led me to this article by Louise Hay and this one by Deepok Chopra. I cannot say that either article contained profound insight, but there were a couple of important take-aways.

The Louise Hay article brought my attention to the fact that when you love someone, it means that you accept them as they are right now, warts and all. I thought about that and decided it is true. When I think about the love I have for my son or my friends or boyfriend, I can see that I love them completely, just as they are. I don't love part of them and reject the rest.

This was a pretty big aha for me. OH! So loving myself would mean that I accept myself! Even when I think I am messing up or even the parts of myself I tend to judge or reject. That was a big clue.

The Deepok Chopra article more or less just clued me in to the idea that love can expand from something conditional to include everything. And as that happens, it becomes less and less dependent on the object of the love behaving a certain way. And also that as we improve at loving ourselves unconditionally we might also begin to spend more time with people who also love this fully and less time with people whose love is conditional and therefore defensive, etc.

Now, I know the post I led off this blog with, the one I wrote yesterday, was intense. And it may not have been completely fair to me either. But I wanted to get it out there, because while my self-hatred isn't the whole story, it is the part of the story that I have the hardest time fully naming and owning. Once it is named and owned, it can begin to be seen in context of a broader picture of many feelings I have about myself (not just hatred) and the complexities of my relationships.

So, this is kind of interesting. Last night I got angry with my boyfriend. I had spent the day asking myself that important question: "what would I do right now if I truly loved myself?" I had done many things just the same as I would normally, but I did them more thoughtfully and deliberately, making sure it was what really felt kind to myself.

It's not important what the argument was about, but suffice to say that the events leading up to my becoming angry pressed exactly the right buttons to trigger a response. There was some hostility toward my son as well as some of me not feeling appreciated for housework. These are 2 huge triggers of mine in this whole rejecting myself program that runs.

I went over the edge. I was really angry. I took a bowl of pasta to my son to eat in his room and left the rest of the food on the counter so that Neil could serve himself. I was too angry to eat, and went outside to the hammock.

I lied there allowing myself to calm down, asking myself, what would I do right now if I really loved myself, and listening to this youtube talk on self-love, which taught me that the feeling of loving anything (the sky, the grass, whatever we can appreciate at the moment) can be a bridge into loving ourselves. That loving and being loved are very similar. The speaker in the video spoke so fast, that it was a bit overstimulating to me in the moment, but still, it was good food for thought.

So then, something really interesting happened. I went back to the Louise Hay observation, that to love means to fully accept. One thing I totally reject in myself is anger. When I am angry, I assume that I have screwed up and am now unloveable, and I go into all kinds of weird places from there. But instead, I thought, "I love myself. Just like I am right now. Angry, yes. Maybe I am angry  because I am defensive and I hate myself. Maybe it means I will fail at all relationships including being a mother. Maybe it is part of a huge multi-generational curse. Whatever. I still accept myself just how I am right now. In the hammock. Angry. Not eating the supper I just made. In a fight with my boyfriend who thinks I talk too much and worry too much and get too angry over nothing. Who probably has a good point about all of it. It doesn't matter. I really accept myself right now. Just how I am. I really love myself. So what would I do right now, if I want to just keep loving myself?"

Well, I did things differently than I normally would have. I went inside and made a bowl of pasta and ate it by myself and read a book. I took a bath. I hung out with my son. I didn't judge myself for being angry at Neil, nor did I need to justify it. Maybe I was over reacting. Maybe I wasn't. It didn't matter. I didn't need to talk about it or solve it or change it. I let myself just do whatever felt most loving and best.

At the end of the night, Neil and I had not spoken at all, which is fine, because he is very solitary anyway, and I am usually the one trying to drum up some interaction. I went to bed with him. We lay there quietly in the dark. It was early. I had told my son to go to bed after his movie was over. He wanted a bowl of cheerieos before bed, so I told him that would be fine.

At 9PM his movie finished, he went into the kitchen to eat a bowl of Cheerios. Neil heard him and started in with the familiar hostile "what is he doing? why is he up? Why is he being so noisy?" Anger, anger anger. It provokes me. Of course, I want to defend my son, but I often end up trying to appease Neil instead. This time, I didn't. I said "Hey, he is doing what I said he could do and then going to bed on time. There is no problem here." But because we were both super angry, I just went into my son's room and slept with him.

It felt good. I wasn't judging myself. I was letting myself feel the anger. Letting myself consider that maybe I don't want to be in a relationship with someone who doesn't enjoy philosophical conversations or much conversation period, who finds it annoying when I speak about my feelings. Who doesn't want to cuddle or show love in any of the ways I am used to recognizing it, through kind words or touches. Who takes for granted the cooking, cleaning and rearing of mine and his children, and doesn't even notice or act very kindly about it. Maybe, despite all of our strengths as a couple, if these things feel intolerable to me, the self-loving thing for me to do would be to leave.

Suddenly, being single didn't feel so lonely. It didn't feel like failure or heartbreak. It didn't feel like not being loved, like being rejected. It just felt like being loving and kind to myself and not trying to get water from a stone or whatever. Not trying to bend over backward to make someone love me and then get angry when they don't.

Interesting. Just yesterday I was posting about the destructive nature of doing this. But now I am seeing more of the picture. I don't do it just to be annoying or just because I am needy or weak. I do it because I have legitimate needs that are not getting met in this relationship, and I have decided to stay, so now I am trying every way possible to get my needs met, which does then become needy, annoying and awful. So what if I just walk away from it all?

Around midnight, Neil came to get me from my son's bed. I told him I was really considering whether or not we should stay together, given the fact that I find myself quick to anger recently, and that is perhaps due to us just not being compatible in terms of my need for deep conversation and intimacy. I said it very non-aggressively, and I truly wasn't seeking any kind of reaction from him. In fact, I was just in my own thoughts mostly, really considering these possiblities and actually liking them.

So this is what it feels like to love myself. At least in this moment. It feels like honoring my anger and my hurt and my needs and deciding that I am willing to meet my own needs even if that means moving out of the house or whatever. I wasn't reactionary. I wasn't making any sudden decisions. I was just considering things. And things were looking much different.

Well, guess what? Neil could feel it. Suddenly, he became very snuggly and loving toward me all night and morning. Really present. Really close. Isn't that interesting? No matter how I try to get some intimacy and affection from him I feel rebuked. And now, I finally, truly, really 100% am just like, ok. I'm going to do what I need. And instantly, he is there.

Is it because there is some game being played? Maybe, I don't know. Is it because I am more attractive when I am loving myself and standing up for myself. Definitely.

I don't know what I am going to do. I don't need to decide right now. It will become clear. But what I know I need to do is keep asking myself this question over and over and over: What would I do right now, if I truly loved myself?