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March 24, 2012

on love. part 1 of 1,000.

i've never been in love.


i'm twenty-seven.


i've made peace with this.


i never made it a priority in my life. love was never on my mind. loving myself was never a blip on the radar. 


right now it's everything.


when i went to kentucky last july to visit my great aunt and uncle, within an hour of arriving, my aunt sized me up. she's good at that. 


"why do you think you're so unlovable?" she said.


this cracked me open. i sat on a wicker bench on her back porch. i bit my lip and my tongue and looked at everything i could to keep from crying: her beautiful black lab, raven, at my feet, the lake at the bottom of the hill, the flowers spread about the deck, and two glasses of water on the table.


this lasted about five seconds. 


i didn't have my first real relationship until i was twenty-six. 


it didn't work. and it ended six days after i got back from that trip.


i was never in a position to love anyone because i didn't love myself. it's as sad and simple as that. and yet of course it's not even close to being that simple.


time and distance are powerful things. 


my aunt did it again while on the phone with her this afternoon. her name is hope. i've never known another person with a more appropriate name. i feel lighter in her presence, so much is lifted, even during a phone call that lasts thirty-one minutes.  


"remember what grandma phyllis always said: please yourself and you'll please the world."


if only i could remember these words every moment of my life. 


it's taken me a long time to slow down in order to make myself the most important thing in my life.


i never stopped to take the step to try and love myself. because it really is something one must try to do. it takes work, but it is a job worth the effort, the time, the sweat, the heartache, and the tears-tears of both joy and sorrow.


i'm writing this from a good friend's living room couch as i dive into the third season of friday night lights on netflix,  and stare out the windows overlooking the south loop. we sat on this couch just hours ago and shared dinner. i ate whole wheat pasta and marina with mini meatballs. i sat next to yet another woman who said something that shook the very core of  me. 


"i feel like jim and working out are your medicines. you have to stick to them."


she's right. of course she's right. i keep strong women around me, constant reminders of the woman i am working on becoming. 


working.


working on letting go of anger i feel towards myself and working on being much, much more patient  with myself.


tomorrow, i will wake early. i will eat whole grain cereal and a banana. i will stare out her windows from the 31st floor and say a prayer. a prayer that i will believe in myself. a prayer of thanks to my legs for carrying me five miles through one of the most beautiful cities in the world.


i will remember that i have enough self-love to push myself this much.


i will remember that i love myself enough to take care of my body, my heart, and my soul.


i will remember that i am worth it.

2 comments:

  1. It's always the first step, and it's always the hardest.
    It takes a while, it takes thinking, it takes, as you said, work.

    But it's worth it. Every single inch of skin worth it.
    Bon courage.

    J.

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  2. Thank you, thank you, thank you for writing this honest, inspiring piece. Looks like the two of us are on a similar journey, learning that in pleasing myself, I'll please the world. You're talented. Funny that you mention never having been in love, when truly, you're falling more in love with yourself everyday. Keep shining!

    MK

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