I’ve always identified myself as a very realistic and logical person, therefore, I have analyzed and overanalyzed my plight, digging deeper and deeper into my own subconscious to find the answer to my inability to be vulnerable. It’s as if I’m travelling down the nine rings of hell, hopelessly wandering around without a Virgil. I get so far down, that I barely recognize myself. And then… I see that I haven’t been searching for an answer, but a question, this entire time.
How can I love someone, if I’ve never fallen in love with the most important person of all?
Me?
While “loving yourself” is a phrase advertised on almost every billboard, covering hundreds of thousands of Instagram posts, Pinterest boards, and quotes from world renowned intellectuals, I’ve always found it extremely difficult to concur with. I felt as if those words were like garlic, potently harassing me like a vampire, but never enough to stick. I never took the time to contemplate this phrase, because it didn’t seem important to me. What I didn’t know was by not addressing the real issue, I was not being true to my pragmatic self. I was denying a part of me, and as a result, splitting into two. But this binary fission of myself was more toxic and darker than I wanted to be because I am, ultimately, incomplete. So I’ve been trying to learn how to first appreciate, then like, and eventually love myself.
It’s harder than it seems. Especially with anxiety. Mainly, during the school year I’m incessantly mean to myself, constantly nitpicking every bad grade, every failed relationship, every phone call with my mother that didn’t end on a positive note. 24 hours of living inside my head is more terrifying than a Stephen King novel.
I have been trying to read philosophy. Lao-tzu, Confucius, de Beauvoir, Wollstonecraft, anything that can teach me about the wonders of my life as an individual, in order to appreciate the things about myself that initially made me uncomfortable in my own skin. But what I realize is that there’s no manual, no Eat. Pray. Love. or Wild is going to help me because I am not like everyone else. I can’t just follow a set of rules like the rest of the world in hopes that I will save myself, become more in-tune with myself.
So. I tried dating myself. I took myself out on dates, to the movies or to coffee shops, Barnes and Noble, anything that reminded me of my childhood when I was naive and happy and the essence of emotional purity. I was so incandescently happy sitting on the dirty floor, delving page after page, into my favorite books. These books were not only my hobby or my love, but they became a significant part of me. I also tried meditation and learning to be completely alone with myself. At first, I found myself cheating, always on the lookout for an opportunity to escape “alone time” so I didn’t have to be stuck…in a room…with only me. Me and my unfiltered, overanalyzing, unadulterated thoughts. I imagined these thoughts as a monster in my closet, toying with my emotions and hindering me from understanding who I really am. At first, I wanted to succumb to this monster, allow myself to be dragged down by this doubt that I am not worthy of my own love.
But as the dates kept coming, I found that I wasn’t so quick to get away from my own thoughts anymore. I was able to stare down the monster in my closet. Yes, albeit I have not found a way to destroy that monster, and while it still lingers, I have learned to control the negativity to a degree. I am not perfect, and I can’t pretend that I don’t fall into that deprecating pattern of telling myself that I am not special, or talented, or smart, sometimes. My journey has only begun, and I have just begun to pick myself up from the remnants of the battlefield. But because I am willing to let go of that forsaken minefield, I have found out that I am stronger than I once believed.
Maybe love is in fact a battlefield, a dangerous war that everyone must eventually face….but maybe it’s not completely lost, and only requires the diligence of those who are willing to take up arms and fight from themselves.