I hold myself to a very high standard. I make a lot of to-do lists, and I feel guilty if I wake up later than seven in the morning. More than twice in this week alone I have been told that I am way too hard on myself. I work hard for my grades, I work hard for success, and I work hard for everything I earn, but, far too often, I leave working towards my own happiness on the backburner.
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And I love vanilla pudding. I mean, I really love vanilla pudding, with sprinkles and whipped cream on top. Some days, Iāll make sure I stay on the elliptical for an extra ten, maybe fifteen minutes just to make sure I earn my dessert. Otherwise, Iāll just end up feeling guilty after all the sugar is eaten up.
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āI havenāt gone to the gym today so I donāt deserve this dessert.ā āI still havenāt finished reading chapter four yet, so I really donāt deserve to relax right now.ā āI didnāt earn that extra sleep because I just didnāt get enough done yesterday.ā
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I work to earn my pudding. I work to earn my naps. I work to earn my free time. I work to earn happiness. Too often, I feel undeserving of my own love.
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So many motivational speakers, athletic coaches, role models, mentors, parents, friends, talking parrots, well-trained dogs and extraterrestrial beings will tell you that success canāt just fall into your lap; youāve got to work for it, and youāve got to work hard. But what do we do when this work becomes too much for us? What happens when our bones give out and our minds melt and we find that we just want some freaking pudding to make us feel better? What happens when we absolutely need an extra hour of sleep, but we donāt feel weāve worked hard enough to earn this privilege?
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Itās hard to imagine that any sane person could ever look their best friend, mother, significant other or anyone else they care about in the eye and say, āYou havenāt done enough to deserve anything good. Maybe next time try working a little bit harder and you just may earn my love.ā Thatās no way to keep a friend. Thatās no way to show that you care. Thatās no way to treat a human being. Love is not real love when itās conditional. And, in the same way, self-love is not real self-love when you withhold it from yourself.
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Why do we sometimes treat ourselves as if we are not as deserving of happiness as others? Why do we sometimes treat ourselves as ālesser thanā? Why do we withhold our own love? Why canāt we just enjoy the pudding without determining whether or not we have earned it?
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Iām slowly ā very slowly ā realizing that the worst thing you can do to yourself is withhold your own affections. Reminding yourself day in and day out that well-being is a privilege reserved to the admirable few will do nothing but tear you down. I will never be successful if I am crushed under the weight of my own expectations. You will never go on to do great, wonderful, marvelous things if you never allow yourself room to breathe. Telling ourselves that we havenāt āearnedā the right to be happy is like saying that our lungs arenāt deserving of oxygen. āEarning itā only inhibits growth.
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The people around me donāt need to work for my love. Why shouldnāt I treat myself just as well?
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So, no, I havenāt gone to the gym today, and I havenāt done all of my homework for the next month, and I havenāt solved world hunger yet, and I havenāt learned to fly. But, I want some pudding. And I want it with extra sprinkles. I donāt need to earn anything. My happiness and my love donāt come with a price tag.
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