I have never really been a self-love, self-talk, or self-care kind of person. I am more of a show love, pep talk, or take care person to others. That gives me joy. I love to lift others up and encourage them.
In a world of so much negativity, the last thing we should be doing is talking to or treating ourselves badly. I can only speak for myself, but I am not usually my first thought. Everything I do is working for something or someone.
When I became a mom my life changed. My priorities changed. I wanted my daughter to grow up confident and strong. How we talk to our children from a young age will help develop their mind and it will become their inner voice. I have never found that to be more true now as she grows up because I see how other kids with totally different ways were raised.
Our inner voice can build or break us , so very easily. How we think about ourself and talk inside our head will always be harder than what will actually be said. I am going to put myself in a totally vulnerable place right now. I never look my self in the eyes in the mirror when I undress for the shower, nope, definitely don’t. I have called myself things like,”fat cow”, “ugly”,”disappointment” and so many more. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes I feel myself but it’s usually because I know it is going to be dark so I think I will look better.
When I was younger, some would say I was cute and some would say I looked like a monkey, my ears were too big, my face was really hairy and so on. As I got in to middle and high school, I looked a little better but still mostly the same. When I graduated I probably felt my okayest. When I started at cosmetology school, I cut my hair short and started to dress my like myself, more comfortable. Up until about my 8th grade year my dad controlled my hair. It was long and thick and hard for me to enjoy. As soon I could, I cut in in to a super cute a-line that was super flattering and I loved it.
As I got older, I continued to change and figure myself out. I started dating more girls and was secretly becoming more comfortable with myself, but more uncomfortable with my family. It was hard for my dad to look at me. He hated that I carried a wallet and didn’t grow up and live the life that he imagined for me.
At that point, my self love and inner voice was rarely positive. I got together with my daughters other mom and long story short, was kept a secret for most of our relationship due to her own insecurities , so that didn’t help my self love either. Having my family and partner all embarrassed of me really did some damage.
To this day about 19 years later I still worry about what I wear and how I look around my parents. I would always make sure to say mom a lot so people wouldn’t think things and wear girly colors and not hats around my dad. I want to hope that they don’t care as much, but I still worry.
I was golfing recently with my dad, and they have been doing this picture collage on their wall and he says, ” I said to your mom, you know we don’t have many pictures of Bee.” I thought well yeah because people don’t take pictures of things that aren’t pretty and well I am usually the one taking the photos. I rarely take pictures now of myself and if I do its more like in a selfie mode and I think way too much while doing it.
All of these things get incorporated in how I talk to myself. I also know that if I don’t like something, I should just change it but in this society is it hard. I am the only one who can fix, change, and work on me. I want to love me right now right at this moment, but I don’t. With that, I have this beautiful daughter, girlfriend, and her daughter that I try to build up and I get so sad for them but why not myself.
I would love for us to be our own little lift up crew. My daughter does that for me it’s very sweet. But I have to work a little with my girl and her daughter. Her ex and dad to her daughter really screwed that up so its a little more challenging. In the short period of time, I have heard him degrade my girl and talk very very negative about their daughter. It breaks my heart to know how he has talked to her and behind her back and to hear how he talks about their mother in front of them. She has told me so many times in the past that he has just been so mean and I honestly hate to think about how she felt in those moments, even though she would try to fight back.
I have been trying to think better, but gosh it’s hard. I hope that with daily practice and hard work I will get past it and not put it on my family. Loving for me is easy, but self love on the other hand is so hard. I won’t give up not on them, nor myself and will continue to have hope for better.
Consistently inconsistent 