The Beautiful Thing About My Power Is This: The #selflovejourney Story

The universe will never stop for me and that's okay. It won't even slow down. That's okay too. Who am I to expect or demand that it should? As a single brush stroke on a masterpiece of a world, I myself am not a make or break.

I am a result of one hand motion of the artist who decided, for one reason or another- that the picture wasn't complete without my presence. None of that means or has ever meant, though, that the picture (or the world) could not exist without me. It could exist, but not the way that it does.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My favorite compliment to get and the fastest way to melt my heart?

"The world needs more people like you." 

I say this because it is important to me that I take this minute to make note of the greatest lesson that I have ever or probably ever will learn.

That I have power. 

And the beautiful thing about my power is this: it is delicately balanced between my acceptance of who I am and my desire to be better. Oh, and it is MINE. The one thing that nobody will ever be able to take away.

My power does not rest in the hands of any boy who has ever broken my heart or in the twisted minds of anyone who has done me wrong. It does not hide from conflict or run away when there is a sign of trouble. It rests when I am weak and it rises again when I need a reminder that it is there. It never crashes, burns or disappears. It is understanding of my tendency to panic and it doesn't blame me for being vulnerable. It doesn't make me feel like I am a helpless victim to harmful realities. It ties my heartstrings in knots so that I have no choice but to tug at my soul and at the things I am feeling until I free myself from doubt and pain and anything that ever makes me feel less than strong. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I didn't always know that I was powerful.

In fact, I don't think I really started realizing that I was anything more than an ordinary human being until about a year ago- and even that isn't an absolute because I'm still growing, learning, falling down and standing back up for a different reason almost every single day. 

I started my #selflovejourney about midway through one of my therapy sessions with the school psychologist my senior year of high school, as a way to keep track of the progress I was making in helping myself understand that I was (and am) ENOUGH. Strong enough, smart enough, and anything else that I wanted to be.

I guess I assumed people would be encouraging and supportive, but instead they seemed to almost shut me down. 

"Why is that a journey?" they'd ask me. "Shouldn't you already love yourself?"

Part of me was angry. "Yeah," I'd say. "I should. But I don't." 

"WHY!?" they'd ask, pressing and pressing me with questions until I'd be visibly on the verge of tears.

"Because I just don't. And because I think self-love is more than just loving myself," I'd tell them, usually with a shaky voice. 

Everyone almost always gave me the same look at that point. The same "why are you making this so complicated, just be you and stop letting everything get to you" look. The same shaking of the head, the same shrugging of shoulders, the same rolling of eyes. All the same bullshit, all the fucking time. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And people have asked me to explain my reasoning for my #selflovejourney SO many times, that I'm going to do so right here right now, once and for all so that I have it written out for anyone who ever asks again.

My junior year, I started hating absolutely everything about who I was as a person. I felt like I was competing with every other girl in terms of looks, and I didn't feel like I was even worthy of competing against them. They wore the trendiest clothes, their makeup was always perfect, they were always dating some cute guy, a handful of them were voted homecoming and prom royalty, they always had 100+ likes on Instagram, they had plenty of friends, and they always looked like they were enjoying life. 

Meanwhile, I was usually sitting by myself either writing or observing everything that was going on around me. I would always wonder what made them so worthy of being royalty. I would always wonder why I wasn't one of them. 

But I always held that stuff back, because stuff like that hurts when you say it out loud. It sounds stupid, selfish and unreasonable, but in my head at that time- it was very real and very hard to have to go through. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I used to hold E V E R Y T H I N G back. 

If someone said something hurtful to me I'd usually say, "it's okay," or "don't worry about it," or I just wouldn't respond at all. 

If I had an opinion on something that differed from the opinions of those around me, I'd keep my mouth shut. 

When I'd come home from school and my parents would ask how my day was, I'd say "good" and I'd leave it at that- I wouldn't say, "I feel like I'm not good enough because I'm not as pretty or funny or popular as the popular girls and I'm stressed about my Physics grade and I have six hours of homework tonight but I feel sick and I just want to drop out," because I just didn't want to admit any of it, but everything I just told you is absolutely true. That is how I felt at the time, and as stupid as it seems it really was slowly killing me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It got so bad at one point that I completely shut everyone out. I didn't talk to my parents or any of my family. I went several weeks at school without opening my mouth to say anything at all. I stopped eating for the most part. I started checking out library books by the dozens and finishing them in a matter of hours. I turned my morning alarm off all together, thinking that if I didn't wake up I just wouldn't go at all.

In my mind it seemed like everyone and everything was somehow closing in on me and deserting me at the same time. Nothing made sense, I was constantly angry, and one night it resulted in my dad having to pull my arms apart because I was using my nails to scratch my own arms until I looked down and I was bleeding.

That was rough. I will not lie to you. It was rough then and it's rough sitting here typing it out again, too. Seeing it in words is not emotionally easy.

For as long as I can remember, I've dealt with things like depressive mood swings, anxiety, and inferiority complexes due to my being an old-souled introvert. Because I wasn't psychologically in the same place as my peers, (and many cases still am not), feeling like I fit in was impossible.

So all through middle and high school, my life pretty much felt like a steady stream of brutally strong sucker punches to my spirit. But that was when I answered the, "how do you feel?" question with the same word over and over: powerless.

Things are different now.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There was never that one moment that told me I needed to start my #selflovejourney. It was a series of events; one thing after another after another. It was seeing the boys who had told me they loved me holding hands with other girls. It was scrolling through social media feeds of other beautiful girls and allowing myself to believe that their beauty was somehow better or worth more than my own. It was me spending my paychecks on sorority fees only to realize that out of sixty-something sisters, there were maybe three that I felt like I could really talk to.

And no, just because I'm not depressed anymore doesn't make this any easier. There hasn't been a single day since I started it that has managed to slide by without both highs and lows. And there won't be. That's the best part- it will never end.

I have made progress. I'm happy with where I am, but I'm not where I want to be y e t. I have come to understand my worth and have learned that I am in fact enough- but that is not enough for me. Not enough for me to step back and say, "this is exactly where I want to be, I am as good as I will get," because that is not true and I would never want it to be.

Right now all I know as a result of what has come of my #selflovejourney so far is the only thing I need to know.

That I have power.

And the beautiful thing about my power is this: it is here to stay. Oh, and so am I.

xox,

i am on a journey that will never end, and i highly recommend you join me

note:

the changes seemed pointless at first,

and therapy was awful,

and for what seemed like forever i felt like walking chaos,

but

in learning to love myself i've managed to learn that weakness is often the beginning of very beautiful things.

i've cried over some of the wrong people and some of the right ones.

the evils that unveiled themselves in many of my sleepless nights were met early the next mornings with things like lattes, long drives, lipstick swatches and forgiveness

because i think people should be allowed to break, not shamed for it. 

i have felt powerful.

i have felt powerless.

i have felt and continue to feel everything. 

that is both the beautiful and the ugly part of the journey.