Smokey Mirror

I have struggled with feelings of unworthiness from the age of seven. At the age of 27, I decided I was worthy simply because I’m alive. That was a huge step, but it has taken an additional eight years for my feelings to change accordingly.
Celebrating my 35th birthday, something extraordinary happened. Some of my friends didn’t show up. A few years ago, that would have been catastrophic to my self-image. It would have been proof that I wasn’t worthy. This year, I was surprised they weren’t there, that I had not heard from them. I missed their presence and  hoped they would still come. When they didn’t,  I sincerely hoped they had just forgot, that everything was ok with them and their loved ones.
When I realized what had actually happened, I felt a jolt of pure joy. All these years of hard inner-work had paid off. Of course, I had already noticed enormous shifts in my self-perception, but this felt like coming home. Home at last!

The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror,
and each will smile at the other’s welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.

Derek Walcott - from Collected Poems 1948-1984

As someone paid me a compliment on this weblog, I felt this deep kind of relief. Although, I loved what I was doing, sometimes was even amazed at what I had written, I had been anxious on some level. Deep inside, I apparently needed someone else to affirm my worth. Why do I still hunger someone else’s approval? Why can I not validate in my own feelings of worth? Why do I find it so hard to have confidence in me?  I blame it on my inner-critic, that mean little voice in the back of my head that always makes snide remarks. Over the years, she’s taken so much power, it doesn’t leave any room for inner-praise. Of course, I’m the main culprit here. I somehow tend to believe my inner-critic and be suspicious of inner-praise. But then I wondered: don’t we all?
Our inner-critic seems to be nothing more than the sum of negative voices we’ve been exposed to when growing up: criticizing comments of our parents, teachers and even of that bullying classmate. But I am not that kid anymore. I’ve grown up. I have learned criticism is rooted in fear.  So why do I still listen to that frightened little voice? Why do I give any credit to some out-dated coward?  Honest? I wouldn’t know.
In my life, I have no room for nagging friends or draining relationships. Life is too short. Why would I allow the most important relationship I have (with myself) to be ruined by such a tyrant. I won’t. Anymore. Today, I’ve declared war on self-terrorism. I have given my inner-terrorist an ultimatum: Either she is with me or against me. Friend or foe. If she’ll keep terrorising me, I’ll hunt her down and smoke her out.

It’s up to me to give life meaning - I don’t expect others to give it meaning for me. I create my own reality.

Deepak Chopra - Success Cards

I was this investigative, independent toddler, the happiest kid you can imagine. I can still vividly remember playing in the sand pit making mud pies, riding my bike, walking to school. In those memories colours are bright and it seems as if the sun is always shining, even on rainy days, as they too were special. At the age of 6, we moved from one side of the country to the other. I was eager with anticipation, but no one had prepared me for the changes life was about to bring. As the new school year started, I literally felt dislocated. All of a sudden, I deeply missed my former life. I did not learn how to cope well. I had a hard time making new friends. My self-esteem and everything else went spiralling down.

It took me more than 20 years to realize the sun could shine as bright again as it did in my memories, that I could be happy again, that I could be me again. I had been reliving on a daily basis what had happened to me between age 7 and 11. I learned that I didn’t have the right coping skills back than. As sad as it was, I couldn’t change that. What I could change, however, was the way I coped with my past in the present. This was a turning point in my life.

Everyone responds differently to life’s challenges. Some have learned to cope better than others. But every day offers new opportunities to sharpen those skills, to see the bright side of life, to be happy, to be you.

On the news, I saw a man who was $14.000 in debt. Due to the  increasing interest, his monthly mortgage costs had increased by $700. Yet, he was very reluctant about selling his house. He didn’t want to go back, he said. Back to what, I wondered. Why was he holding on to a house he so obviously couldn’t afford? It was clear that this was about more than just a house. What was he afraid of losing if he sold that house? It seemed as if his self-esteem was linked to this structure of wood. He was even willing to get more indebted to hold on to this false sense of security. 

How about you? Have you built your self-esteem on fleeting things like success, good looks, health or even a house. How far would you go to keep the picture perfect? How would you feel about yourself if you lost your ‘house’?

I have learned that true self-esteem comes from self-love. Ask yourself: which parts of yourself do you need to accept, before you can love yourself? Why can’t you simply accept these parts and what will it take for you to accept them? Work through the answers. Have patience and most of all: have compassion on yourself. Then one day, when you’ll lose your ‘house’, you’ll be able to stand tall, accept the challenge and move forward.  Then you’ll know that a house is a house is just a house.