When you look at yourself, what do you see?
Do you love the person staring back at you in the mirror?
Or do you loathe the reflection staring back at you?
I know my reflection needs a good old slap for all my flaws, self loathing and frustrating ways.
I’m far from perfect, I’m short, a little over weight (thank you medicines) and my mind is a muddled puzzle that not even I understand.
I over think way to much, I worry and stress over the smallest of details, I care too much even about the things that I shouldn’t.
I live in fear of being judged, even though I know I shouldn’t really give rats ass about what others think of me.
I moan more than I should, while telling myself “shut up, you moaning bi**h” all the while knowing I moan because I really haven’t got anything interesting to say.
I feel insufficient because my brain doesn’t work as others do. It’s a portal of memories instead of the facts and knowledge I wish it could be.
I feel stupid because that’s what my teachers told me, all because I have dyslexia.
Added to that most days my mouth can’t even completes a sentence without muddling up the simplest words or not being able to pronounce the words I’m desperately trying to say. The same goes for writing, what I want to write I can’t because I can’t spell it.
And I swear I’m the most disinteresting person on the planet.
But I try so hard to better myself, to not loathe myself and the unfortunate hand I have been given health wise.
I try to fill my brain with facts and information, but within hours it’s a mass of confusion, so all I’m left with is self dealt and my life line of crochet but who really wants to hear about that if it holds no interest to them.
The same goes for family history, if your interested your interested, if your not, I’m sure I bore you to tears.
To me though those two little hobbies are a huge part of me, they keep me from going insane as they give me a purpose, a reason to get out of bed other than to get up and clean a house that within hours will have tumbleweeds of dog hair floating across the floors, dirty cups on the sides and washing thrown on the floor waiting patiently for me to scoop it up, wash it, dry it and put it away, just so the endless circle continues.
With all my self loathing, how do I even begin to believe I’m worth more than what I believe I am.
How do you re-train your brain to look in the mirror and see something other than failure and hate.
I’ve tried the self help books, I’ve tried to tell myself that I’m worthy.
I tried to not care what the world thinks of me and still the niggling dealt creeps in.
I try to be the best person I can be, to listen, love and comfort those who I care about and even those I don’t.
I always try to be there for the ones I love, to support them, when their own reflection plays havoc with their own minds.
I know I’m not alone and many of you at one time or another have felt this way, so what can we do to change it, to believe in ourselves and show not only the world but more so ourselves that we are worthy, we are beautiful, intelligent, strong, independent warriors, who can handle any situation and grow through the trails and tribulations that life has thrown at us.
That with a little self-belief and understanding we can conquer our self dealt and loathing.
With a little hard work and dedication, we can be who we want/need to be, while not caring what the judgemental eyes of society think about it.
Deep down within us we all have the power to believe, to grow and to re-train the negative niggles that cause chaos with our self-belief. With a little love, self-belief, positivity and re-thinking, we can do anything we set our minds to because when our short lives and frail bodies are drifting towards the next eternal advance, we don’t want to look in the mirror and loathe what we see.
We want to look at the lines on our faces and know that each one has a meaning, a journey or a lesson of our lives and see the beauty of self-worth and belonging.
So with baby steps, I will conquer my demons, and slowly but surely learn to love myself once more.
Who’s with me.