By 
[bigletter]I’ll be honest, this time of year was never my favorite. Growing up I always remember there being somewhat of a lull between the new year and the drudges of winter in Chicago, where the perfect white snow we waited in excitement for all year long turned brown and slushy by the city traffic and into a general disdain for “weather” that only seemed cheerful in the presence of Christmas trees in our windows. Even after the snow started to melt, I tend to recall some the hopeful moments of Spring also got me down, as if I wasn’t perhaps ready to come out of my cocoon of discontent I had attributed fully to the icy temps. Of course eventually the days would slowly start to feel longer, with the sun setting later and the freezing morning walks to school becoming more manageable knowing we’d likely shove our coats into our backpacks by the last bell, embracing the possibility of visits to the park or enjoying the semi wet grass in our own backyard. By about May I tended to be in a much better place, more hopeful about life in general, in love with the romantic idea that is budding summer.[/bigletter]
Fast forward to now, after almost ten years spent living in year-round warmth in Los Angeles and I must admit, the period between January and May still get me. I’m arguably more enthusiastic about the cold fronts in Southern California, ranging from about 45-60 degrees, for what I believe are strictly fashion related purposes. However, there is just something still about this time that makes me feel a tad less hopeful. Perhaps it’s the rain, perhaps it’s just the season my more optimistic self takes an annual vacation from.
That is until I start seeing things bloom, natures most assured way of communicating the possibility of now ever so beautifully.
But whether the weather is most significantly at play or not, I know this is a hard time for us all. Like the cherry blossoms in DC, we can’t ignore what has happened in our country over the last year, a worldwide pandemic that’s left us completely removed and discombobulated from most of the things that brought us meaning, joy and connection. Our country’s traumas relived and re-shared via tweet and in the streets with the #BLM movement. This time I reckon is especially difficult given our summer has come and gone, so has the holidays, two long stretches of the year most people have found some semblance of solace from, leaving us now in a hangover of regret wondering how we could be in further trouble almost a year later.
When I think about this time of year, Valentine’s Day has always been my saving grace, perhaps because I love the color scheme so very much. But also because I guess I’m fully committed to the idea of celebrating the love we do have in our life, with family, with friends, with significant others, but most importantly, with ourselves.
If that’s too cheesy for you I understand, take a breath, eat a chocolate, come back when you’re ready.
Why Hallmark hasn’t hired me yet is a mystery I’ll never solve.
Self-Love, sounds self-indulgent, right?
Wtf does that even mean, I’m 31 years old and have been trying to help people do this since I graduated my masters program seven years ago. Actually, I have been doing this since Katie got left by Robert for Larissa and every member of the cheerleading squad did their best attempt at Freud.
I still ask myself almost everyday, am I honoring myself with my actions? Am I living for my true self, am I really in acceptance and gratitude for who I am? I think it gets tricky, because in order to truly love ourselves, don’t we have to be in full belief of who we are, do we have to be proud of everything we do?
As a recovering perfectionist myself, I’d like to say no. It’s impossible to even know exactly who we are at any given moment, as we are constantly evolving slowly every day, right? Every moment, every experience, every thought that comes through our minds has the power to change us ever so slightly and it’s with these collective micro inches towards something slightly different that we evolve. At least that’s what I believe.
So we can’t always fully know, accept and honor the person we are in any given moment. But does that make it impossible to still love and respect ourselves? Isn’t there beauty in the becoming, albeit imperfect?
I choose to believe so.
Perfectionism doesn’t equal lovability, because if it did then we’d all be screwed.
Loving yourself, believing in yourself, supporting yourself, are all things we can do while also making mistakes, showing up in ways that might not always serve us, being imperfect, growing through hard times.
I often like to point out to my clients when they are being really hard on themselves that if a friend said the same thing, my client would likely point this out to them. What if your friend felt that way about themselves, what might you say then? What if your friend had the same negative self-talk, what support might you offer? What if your friend had all these circumstances impacting the way they act towards themselves, what empathy would you have?
We must start to treat ourselves like a friend. Like a best friend, like a really, really good best friend. Because as morbid as this may sound, what else do we really have besides ourselves? Yes of course there are many people (and dogs which I consider better than people) who are important to us, who give us meaning and purpose, who love and validate us. But at the end of the day, who else knows you better, who else has the power and motivation to see you live a fulfilling and healthy existence?
If we can’t be our own best friend then we can’t show up for those around us very well either. If we can’t know the simple act of self-love, than how can we show love to others?
So what does this self-love concept actually look like? Well here is my definition, which doesn’t include selfishness and does not embody characteristics of narcissism.
Self-love ˈˌself ˈləv/noun
regard for one’s own wellbeing and autonomous fulfillment.
It’s vague and abstract, yes. But this is Monica Gisele dot com not Merriam Webster so bear with me.
Like any good therapist, I’d like to offer a few questions to assist in getting us closer to this act of self-love.
Self-love Inducing Questions
Are these thoughts, actions, people, places, food, (fill in the blank) serving me?
What is my intuition telling me?
Am I truly living in my body right now, or loading it like a U-Haul truck rented by the hour?
Are these actions in line with my core values?
If I’m not where I want to be now, what things are currently available to me that I can be grateful for?
How might I be contributing to my own pain?
Who do I really feel safe with?
What is within my control, what is not?
How might I find acceptance with myself now, even if I am not living up to a standard I’ve set?
Who truly loves, accepts and encourages the ever evolving me?
What small acts of kindness can I do for myself?
What boundaries could I set to improve relationships with others around me?
Why am I being so hard on myself?
What might a person I trust say back to some of these thoughts?
Was this goal I am chasing born out of genuine intention or perhaps just fear?
What am I afraid to admit to myself, where might I feel safe to explore it?
Is what I am doing serving me?
Am I meeting my body where it’s at?
How might my expectations be impeding my progress?
I recognize these are all fairly abstract questions, but I’d imagine you are able to apply at least several of them to your own life, the meaning behind each and the answers all deeply personal. But the common thread here is that most people struggle with similar things. We are human and therefore rely on social relationships to survive and all have an instinctive need to find meaning in our existence. It’s what makes us more prone to stress and variance in mood, but it also gives us joy, compassion, interest and the ability to establish deep connection with ourselves and one another. It’s perhaps the most beautiful thing and the also most challenging.
Self-love is many things, but I garuntee you it’s not happiness. Happiness can come from self-love, however, self-love is something that can exist without happiness. Self-love can be there for us through it all, it’s a centered practice that penetrates deep and can help you through hard times but isn’t going to protect you from the realities of life. Perhaps one comparison is our skin, which protects us from the elements but can’t be the only thing that gets us through winter. We need other layers of resources to survive, but having the foundation of self-love makes life much more manageable and dare I say at best, fulfilling.
I know this time of year isn’t the easiest for me, but I’d like to say I’ve built enough of a solid foundation of self-love to know it’s temporary and that there are still many things I have to enjoy and look forward regardless. It’s perhaps even allowed me to embrace this familiar dip in my mood, making me more grateful perhaps for the better times to come.
