Have you ever seen a baby see themselves in a mirror for the first time, and realize that it is them? It is amazing, and hilarious. They are completely enamored with the reflection of themselves. As children become toddlers, and even up until early, but later, stages of development, they are completely consumed with their image if a mirror is present. I actually commented to a friend, just earlier today at our daughter's dance class, that I was surprised they were able to teach anything to a bunch of six year olds in front of a full wall of mirrors. We start out in life so pure we know nothing more than to simply love ourselves. Something happens along the journey of life to chip away at our self-love, and sometimes too many things happen to us, and it destroys our ability to do so completely.
I was looking in the mirror the other day to check my hair, or something vain, or critical, before I left the house, and my daughter asked me; "Mommy, are you smiling at yourself in the mirror?" I paused and looked at her, because I knew I had been doing anything but smiling at myself. I half-smiled and looked down at her beautiful little face and said, "I should smile at myself in the mirror more often. Thank you for reminding me of that, sweetheart." It was a painful reminder of my ongoing effort to practice and learn self-love. I am still quite a work in practice.
About a year or two ago, I practiced an exercise in self-love where one is to place childhood pictures of themselves around their home, or office, or any personal space. The idea is to see the pictures and remember yourself as the innocent human being you once were, completely worthy of love, and untainted by life. It sort of worked, as far as helping me to view myself as a once innocent human being, but I was tainted by the ugliness of life quite early on in my developmental years. I was extremely damaged in my ability to be able to love myself, to the point of literally hating myself for most of my life. There have been many things which have helped me put more focus on repairing this damage, one main thing being the birth of my daughter. I do not want to raise a woman who does not love herself, because those women only do further damage to their being. It is a vicious cycle, self-hatred. It feeds itself, and grows, and fosters further disappointments and despair. It can happen to men too. Nobody is immune to emotional damage.
I have been on this journey to learn to love myself for a few years. I marvel at the people with such self-esteem it borders on narcissism. I often struggle to determine if people are genuinely that healthy in their ego, or so damaged that they only appear, or pretend, to possess a love of self. Sometimes the most seemingly self-loving people actually despise themselves the most. It is a very fine line, and often hard to decipher.
One of the things that has helped me to grow in my endeavor of self-love, is being able to see myself in my little girl. I watch her smile and laugh, so full of innocence and love, and I tell myself I must have been like her at some time. The childhood pictures show that I appeared to be, but we all know that photographs do not always show the full picture.
I have so many things I am not proud of. So many experiences and life events where I can look back and say nothing but, "if only..." which do not matter; they can never be changed. I have been filled with shame and self-loathing for too many things, and for far too long. I have had to decide that I am not a victim, nor am I necessarily a perpetrator. I just "was". I lived my life, shit happened. I dealt with it the best I was able to at the time, just as we all do. And so, I struggle to forgive myself for my mistakes. I struggle to not view myself as a bad person, in place of a damaged person. I stare into the mirror and wonder how much I can ever truly love myself, and more importantly, forgive myself.
As part of my physical and emotional healing, I recently made a vow to myself to attend regular yoga classes. There is something so different about practicing in a studio free of distractions, as opposed to practicing at home, which can still be quite fulfilling; but not the same. Today I was at the studio, in a new class, with a new teacher I immediately became quite fond of during my first visit to her class. She is an older woman, a matriarch type of figure. She exudes wisdom and positive energy and I am quite attentive to her teachings. As I sat on my mat this morning, taking in her pre-class dialogue, I had a sudden, and severe, mental image of my daughter sitting at her desk at school. My daughter is a "good" little girl. She pays attentions to her teachers, shows respect to her elders and peers, and tries her very best to be pleasing and follow the rules. I sat there in my yoga class, and realized; I am my daughter, and she is me.
I saw the little girl me who was so eager to follow the rules, and please my elders. I saw the little girl me, who followed the directions and said please and thank you. I saw the little girl me, who knew the difference between right and wrong, and did not deserve the wrong life dealt her. I almost began to cry, but instead I focused on my breath and sending love to that little girl. That little girl who grew up to be beaten and taken advantage of by the dirty, sordid, world. The little girl who had so much potential that was never realized, and the feeling of failure she has carried in her soul accordingly. I sent love to the little girl that made so many mistakes along the way, and often felt terrified and confused, with an overwhelming need to please that left her pleasing everyone but her own self. One of the following poses was a self hug, and I hugged myself and whispered within that it was okay. I thought of that little girl, and I thought of my daughter, so sweet and innocent. I wrapped my arms around myself and squeezed them tighter than the yoga instructor likely intended. The little girl buried deep within me responded, and she told me, "thank you".
I am still a massive work in progress. Today was merely a huge stepping stone to my recovery, and I am grateful for it. I have to learn to love that little girl, as much as I love my present-day daughter, and I need to forgive her.
I need to forgive her for the things she has done, the choices she had made, based on the difficult hand of cards she was dealt. That little girl had dreams, and a desire to love and help people. That little girl used to sing into a microphone like a Broadway star, and print signs on her Fisher Price printing set, before her teaching job to a bunch of Cabbage Patch dolls and stuffed animals. I need to forgive the little girl who loved her mommy and daddy, but wondered why they did not seem to love her back. I need to forgive the little girl who became a teenager searching for love, in all the wrong places. I need to forgive the little girl who became a young mother and entered the workforce in place of college like all of her friends. I need to forgive the forty-something woman who still holds all of the shame and guilt in a personal vault of self-loathing.
I breathed in and out on my mat today, and I smiled at the thought of the little girl that still lives within me. I forgive her. I am going to love her. She is absolutely worthy, just as my daughter is.
If you are struggling with self-love, feeling worthy, or stuck in an effort to learn to forgive yourself; do not give up. You are indeed worthy. You are still the same innocent child deep within, and it is not your fault life happened to you. It is what it is. Do not blame yourself, forgive yourself. I hope that you are able to look into the mirror, and truly and genuinely smile at yourself. You should be impressed by what you see. You were created as a beautiful, innocent, soul. Love yourself accordingly and forgive what life has caused.
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