Is life an image on a screen? Is it a one-dimensional story crafted to sell that image, to make it convincing?
Or is it messy, full of ups and downs, triumphs and obstacles? Is it full of joy and laughter, but also sometimes fear, anger, and sorrow?
What happens when we constantly try to fit ourselves into a narrow box prescribed by a culture obsessed with fountains of youth and shiny notions of a perfect life?
Perfect vacation, perfect body, perfect partner, perfect family, perfect home…
And yet our lives are beautiful not because they’re perfect, not because they consistently fit with some static ideal; they’re beautiful because they’re complex, multi-layered, and always evolving.
But do we dare open our hearts and bare our imperfections—our beautiful complexity—to each other? To the world?
Do we dare speak candidly with each other?
With ourselves?
Do we know ourselves well enough to love ourselves for who we are, but also to speak truth to ourselves when we may not be acting or thinking in ways that help us reach our true potential?
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I’ve sought love and approval outside myself since I was young, and never saw myself in the idyllic narratives spun on social media. In truth, I never really saw my inner world reflected anywhere.
When our lives diverge greatly from norms related to success and what a normal life path “should” look like, we may find ourselves burdened by an existential loneliness stemming from feeling outside of our own culture, from not having a tribe; cut off from a supportive community that can reflect back both our strengths and weaknesses in constructive ways, we may begin to forget the many strengths we do in fact have, instead focusing more and more on our own perceived shortcomings.
We may forget that we are, in fact, good people.
When we don’t love and respect ourselves, it’s not hard to disappear into a world of unrealized dreams, of missed opportunities and unfulfilling relationships.
Looking back at 41, I finally understand the trajectory of my life has too often been shaped by unworthiness, fear, and shame.
But I know now, more than ever, that I need to rise higher than the chains I picked up as a child, as a teenager, and then during my twenties, which were particularly traumatic. I’m sure those chains will always be a part of me, and yet the path to healing may not be as complicated or distant as I once thought, and it may not lie in the spiritual and romantic ideals I previously chased and distracted myself with.
In short, I must learn to love myself. Without that, how can I know what love really is? It’s clearly so much more than finding someone else to fill a void inside me, someone to become an external proxy for the self-love and self-respect that have been missing in my life. I understand now that’s not love at all, though it’s a difficult belief to let go of, embedded on an almost molecular level in people with anxious attachment issues; when we didn’t learn how to love ourselves when were young—or perhaps unlearned it as we got older—it’s a natural instinct to seek what we’re missing outside of ourselves.
But authentically loving relationships aren’t built on inner scarcity; they’re built on mutual appreciation, respect, and support, and deepen with time. They arise through deeply getting to know another person, and standing by them and growing with them through the ups and downs of life.
So, how do I go about learning to love myself more today? Through a short stint of manualized CBT? Through years of psychoanalysis? Through antidepressants? Through giving up my worldly possessions and meditating on top of a mountain in India?
What if the road to self-love is much more basic and available than all that? What if self-love can arise in part through deepening our outward relationships, right here where we are? What if it starts with connecting authentically with good people around us who lift us up, and who we can lift up in return? What if it’s about finding a community that truly enriches our lives?
More than ever now, I crave depth and substance. I want to connect more deeply with myself and with others, and that means finally looking inside and confronting the dark parts of my soul that have been stopping me from going deeper and rising higher—socially, financially, and romantically.
I want to finally shine a light on the inner workings of my low self-esteem and replace it with strength. I want to lay my fear down and step into the world with the confidence I know is also a part of who I truly am.
It’s time for me to add more dimension to my life, to go from living at the surface level of this human existence to opening up to the rich depth of experience and relationship that my soul has been longing for.
This is a commitment I’m making to myself. This is the now I want all the winding and rocky roads of my life to lead to, and it’s up to me to pave the way with intention and clarity.
All Roads Lead To Now 