I Would Like to Remind You

Last night I was sitting on the couch, scribbling words in my journal as I raced to keep pace with my thoughts. When I finally glanced up from the page, I glimpsed my shadow on the wall–an oversized, fuzzy projection of my face and head, complete with high ponytail. I’ve sat in this position a hundred times, but this was the first encounter with my shadow. As my brain started to recognize what I was seeing, I beamed a smile at my silhouette. And then, as if talking with a dear friend, I heard myself say, “I love you.”

I was quite surprised by this automatic response. Really? I love you? Where did that come from? I would have predicted a critical comment about the shape of my nose in profile. For as much as I try to practice and nurture self-love, at times it can still feel elusive. Yet my natural reaction to seeing myself last night tells me that something important is finally taking root. I am starting to know that I am lovable.

In that moment I felt a strong desire to share what had just happened, because I think at times we all could use a little reminder of this simple truth: you are lovable just as you are. There is nothing that you need to do. There is nothing that you have to become. Right here, right now, you are lovable.

We always have been–each and every one of us–but this intrinsic knowing can get buried under the conclusions we draw as we begin to experience the world. As children we often develop stories about how we have to act or what parts of ourselves we have to give up in order to be loved. We may have felt that love was unavailable or withheld when we were angry, made mistakes, voiced our opinions, or asked for something we really, really wanted. This perception or actual experience of conditional love can cause our childhood selves to internalize a sense of unworthiness.

Later as we begin to explore relationships, we are filled with an overwhelming desire to belong. In these tender years, love may again seem to require some degree of effort or performance to attain. When we experience the pain of rejection, we may attribute it to something innately wrong with who we are. We may fear that we are not lovable, confirming our childhood assumptions.  

While our young selves processed their experiences as best they could, their conclusions are frequently misguided and incomplete. However, we can live our entire adult lives believing the stories they authored and unable to recognize the truth that’s deep within us, waiting to be discovered.

I hope that you will pause and remind yourself that you are lovable, even and especially when you don’t think you are. You are lovable when you’re not trying. You are lovable when you have nothing to give. You are lovable when you’re crying. You are lovable when you ask for what you need. You are lovable even when you’ve said something so terrible that you wish you could swallow the words out of the air. You are not perfect–you’re human. And you are lovable.

The Whole Truth

When I was deciding what to write about to close the year, it seemed like a no brainer. I wanted to write about feeling whole and how my understanding of that concept had recently changed. Yet when I put pen to paper, I found it was more difficult than I had anticipated to translate my experience into sensible words. For instance, what does “feeling whole” even mean?

It’s an airy thing to define, and I don’t really feel qualified to do so. But I can share my experience, and for me it is this sense of peace and comfort I have about myself. Feeling whole is a sense of self-okay-ness in the best possible way, and it does not depend on external inputs, feedback, or circumstances. I don’t have to change who I am or fear that I am somehow lacking.

Until recently, I couldn’t have even attempted that description because feeling whole seemed an elusive state. Countless books, podcasts, and experts advised me that I was already whole as is. Easy for them to say, but not so easy for me to manifest. I just didn’t feel whole. I had a few character flaws I wished I didn’t have. I had destructive habits that I occasionally slipped into. Sometimes I was an absolute mess! By my reasoning, this was all solid evidence that I had some work to do. I thought if I addressed these issues and made some serious progress in the self-improvement department, then I would finally be capable of feeling this wholeness.

Since I started traveling, however, I’ve had a lot of time to wander and question, to sit and listen. And my heart has begun to understand that all those books and podcasts were right. Feeling whole doesn’t require a certain level of personal development. It’s not a future state to achieve. Feeling whole comes from accepting myself just as I am here and now.

This means I have to welcome the parts of myself that I label as flawed (the selfishness, insecurity, and all the rest) instead of wishing them away. It means I have to accept that I will sometimes do the wrong thing. It means that even when I think I’m a disaster, I accept that there is no other way I’m supposed to be.**

This new understanding has fostered a sustained feeling of ease and comfort that I haven’t had before. I don’t need to add or subtract anything in order to be whole. I just need to embrace all of me: right here, in this moment. This doesn’t grant me permission to swear off personal growth, because there will always be more for me to learn. But I’m no longer waiting on some better version of me to come along. There’s only the me that I am and the extent to which I can accept that flawed but lovely human.

**Note: I’m not suggesting that accepting yourself is necessarily quick and easy or that it’s something you do once and never think about it again. Accepting yourself frequently requires rethinking deeply held beliefs about right and wrong, good and bad. It involves letting go of feelings of shame and resentment as well as forgiving yourself for past actions. Accepting yourself also challenges you to give up your dependence on other people’s opinions of you. It's legwork I've been doing for years.