So… I’ve been doing some research into that whole ‘Project: Love Thyself’ I keep banging on about. I’m determined to do this, not just halfway but the whole way. I can’t keep falling in love with inappropriate men and making bad decisions.
Anyway, one of the things I read in my research of how to fall in love with yourself was that you should write a list of all the things you already love about yourself. All those things you actually don’t mind or wouldn’t want to change. How hard can it be?
Very, it seems.
What do I love about myself? I spend each and every day pinpointing the things I hate about myself but surely there are good things too? Like my eyes? I like my eyes. Well, I like my eyes with makeup on. They don’t look so great without it especially with the dark circles that seem to be getting darker.
I used to really like my chest but I’m almost thirty now and they’re starting to be not quite as perky as they once were. I lost all that weight too so I can see wrinkles and stretch marks now. I’ve never asked if anyone else can see them. But I can see them and that’s what matters. Right?
Wait… this isn’t a list of what I love about myself. This is a list of the things I kinda like but still would change. That’s not right.
Let’s try this again…
What do I love about myself?
I’m super generous.
I would give anyone my last penny and have done many times. If I were rich, I wouldn’t be rich for long as I’d be giving my money away or buying the people I love nice things. That’s what I do and as much as I wish I were a savvy-saver, I like that over-generous side of me. I’d help anyone out.
I’m a charitable person.
I do crazy things for charity. Sometimes I don’t do crazy things but just donate to charity. When I see appeals on the TV, they really get to me. Sad adverts make me cry and make me want to put my hand in my pocket and give over every penny I have. Sadly, politics plays too much of a part in charity these days and I never really know if I’m helping some homeless guy from London or if I’m lining the pocket of some big-wig sat in a comfy office chair, high up in the big city. I like to cut out the middle man. I’d much rather go to the homeless guy himself and give him a sandwich and a hot cup of tea.
I’m a ‘feelings’ person.
I know it sounds nuts but as I’ve got older, I feel more. I feel more emotion for people I don’t know, or perhaps it’s just empathy? Whatever it is I’m more emotional and I feel more stuff now than I ever remember doing as a youngster. I care about the effect my words and actions will have on people. I never gave a shit about that when I was younger. I’m more aware of causing offence now. Or maybe I just care too much about what other people think of me? I’m not sure?
I’m an animal lover.
When I lived on the other side of the world, I almost went hunting. I almost went hunting to catch a moose with the intention of having it sent to a butcher and delivered back to me in the form of edible slabs of meat and perhaps a head to mount on a wall.
I didn’t go hunting and I’m glad about that because I think I would have regretted it for the rest of my life. I still regret feeding baby mice to my snake I had years ago.
I cannot deal with people who hurt animals. I’m not a vegan or vegetarian or anything like that but… I don’t know? Maybe I’m a hypocrite? But I can’t think of harming an animal. I definitely couldn’t imagine anything worse than killing an animal, eating its flesh and having its head mounted on my wall. I don’t even like handling raw meat. Yucky.
I want to give a home to every abandoned cat in the world. I’m a #crazycatlady. I have accepted that part of me and I love that part of me. I love that I’m an animal lover. Except wasps. I want to torture those animals like they torture me every day. Horrid creatures. I’m sure there’s no use for them.
I’m a hard worker.
If I need to stay awake all night and get an urgent project done, I’ll stay awake all night and get that project done. I’m always late with stuff but when it comes to my work, whatever it is at the time, I put my heart and soul into it. I’ve always worked every hour the day would allow and I still do now.
For years I’ve had both a full-time job and my part-time writing career and now I’m just a writer. Well, a writer and some other stuff but mostly a writer. I definitely don’t do a 40 hour week. I’m permanently glued to either my phone, my laptop or my iPad and honestly, I wouldn’t want it any other way. I love my life. I love my job. I love what I do. I’ve worked hard to stick two fingers up at my boss and never look back and I would rather die than admit I’d made a mistake. I have no choice but to make it work. I WANT to make it work.
I’m all for equality.
I like to think of myself as an equal to everyone else. Of course, I judge people and think I’m ‘better’ than some people but that’s because I’m a human being and I live in the current day and age. Everyone’s judgemental from time to time. I’ve accepted that it’s just a part of human nature. But I’m an equal more than anything else. I don’t think one person doesn’t deserve any less assistance or aid just because of where they’re from, who they are, what colour their skin is, what God they believe in, or anything. I don’t think anyone deserves something better than me or vice versa. We are all the same. Gay people should have as many rights as straight people. Men should live as women if they want to, and vice versa. I just want a world filled with love. Hate hurts my heart.
I’m also for equality in relationships and friendships. He should pay on the first date because that’s just the right (/ gentlemanly / romantic / chivalrous / old-fashioned / expected) thing to do but after that, I’ll happily pay my way. I’ll buy dinner. I’ll even buy him roses if he wants. I’ll do everything for him that I would expect him to do for me. I expect that from my relationships and my friendships. I wouldn’t ask someone to do something for me that I wouldn’t do for them, friend, lover, partner or otherwise.
I mean that in every sense of the word. I’m open-minded in life, love, sex, you name it. I’ll happily try everything once. If I don’t like it, I just don’t do it again. Or maybe I’ll do it a second time around just to make sure but then after that, I definitely won’t do it again.
I like to think that being as open-minded as I am makes me a better person because I can see different sides of different stories. I’m known to be flaky – I often change my mind on something but normally put it down to just being ‘a women’s prerogative’. In reality I think it’s because my mind is open to seeing a different side. I’m not afraid to admit when I’ve made a mistake and need to change my mind / opinion. I’m not afraid to admit when I’m in the wrong.
I’m not afraid to admit when I’ve made a mistake.
I’m making this a point on its own. If I’m in the wrong about something, I just need a little while to calm down and realised I’ve fucked up. I will always come back and apologise with my tail in between my legs if it’s called for. Like the time I got drunk and hurled abuse at Bestie. The first thing I did in my hungover state was apologise profusely for being a complete and utter cunt. I did the same with Jock – I realised I’d made a massive error and apologised over and over again. I’m an asshole when I drink. I really, really am.
(Little flashback: How To Handle The Drunk Angry Girl…)
But if I’m in the wrong, I will always come to that conclusion eventually and say, ‘I’m sorry’. Always. I love that part about myself.
I’m brutally honest.
If you’re pissing me off, you’ll know about it. If I’m upset about something, you’ll know about it. I’m brutally honest and sometimes I wish I wasn’t but again, as I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to love that side of myself. And I’m starting to give less of a shit about offending people if they’ve upset me first.
I can be two-faced but normally it’s by accident. Most of the time, whatever I’m thinking just comes right out of my mouth and the more I think about how to say something, the more it’s likely to just come out in one wild outburst. And wrong.
That’s how I think it should be when you first say ‘I love you’ to someone for the first time and that’s something I’ve realised too as I’ve gotten older. You should say it when it’s the only thing you can think about saying. When it feels like it might burst from your mouth at any moment and you’re unable to hold it in any longer. When it’s everything to you right there in that moment. That’s how I think when I love someone. When not saying those words becomes more impossible than saying them. You know?
Maybe secretly I’m really romantic too?
Anyway, I’ve digressed.
I know what I want from life…
Now. And I know how to get it. Sometimes putting that into practice takes some work but I’m getting there. 2015 was just a shit year… You know?
But I do know what I want from life. I want to be happy. I don’t want to be super rich or super famous. I don’t want to be the world’s best anything, blogger, writer, business-bitch… Anything. (Although it would be nice.) I just want to be me. I want to be me around someone who loves me for me, the good stuff and the bad. I want to find that special someone, keep doing my writing thing, work too hard sometimes and fight too much, and live happily ever after with kids, a dog, a cat and a family car in tow. Everything in between, where I live, what he looks like, what kind of clothes I wear, none of that matters to me. Not at all. And that’s something I’ve learned over the years. I’m not a superficial girlie and all that superficial shit means nothin’ to me.
I’m patient. I’m loyal… Usually. I’m friendly and I’ll talk to anyone. I’m a realist. I’m a good teacher… Usually. I’m independent. I’m funny… If you get my sense of humour. I’m short and good things come in short packages.
So…. I guess there are a few things I do love about myself. It’s not all bad. What do you love about yourself? When was the last time you gave yourself a break? Try it. It’s good for your soul… Apparently. I feel better anyway. In fact, I feel pretty good. It’s YOUR turn…
Ciao for now!