Imagine this: you know a person for about 20 years. During that time, this person has consistently treated you with negativity: dismissing you, abusing you, shaming you, humiliating you, calling you all sorts of names and using all sorts of demeaning words to describe you. And then one day, that person turns around and says, “I love you”. Literally, WTF? How would you respond to such a person?
I don’t know about you, but I doubt that I would be able to trust them in any way. Or even accept what they had to say, no matter how kind or loving. How does a person go from such an extreme to the other? And to expect the words to sound true and authentic? What kind of sick mind game is that? I would need some serious behavioural and emotional consistency to be able to change my mind about that person!
And yet, dear readers, this is exactly the type of sick mind games we play on ourselves.
I had a very profound epiphany recently, inspired by someone else’s therapeutic process. The situation described above? This is any person who struggles with self-love. The other person? It’s me. It’s you. It’s us. It’s us, against us! It’s you, against you! It’s me, against me! As mean and horrible as anyone can be against someone else, there is hardly any greater harm than the one we inflict on ourselves. By dismissing ourselves, abusing ourselves, shaming ourselves, humiliating ourselves, calling ourselves names and demeaning terms, accepting this from others around us, and ourselves. Believing the narrative that we are not enough, not worthy, not lovable.
Do you ever wonder why it’s so difficult to actually love yourself? How long have you spent doing all of the above against yourself? Really, think about it. Think about your greatest wounds, your greatest difficulties. What have you called yourself in relation to them? And for how long? And how much have you believed these names and this narrative about yourself? How insidious are these beliefs?
Whilst most of my core wounds were initially inflicted on me by someone else, the fact that I then went on to believe certain things about myself, is, unfortunately, all on me. I believed it, I perpetuated it, I lived it. The seeds of my main insecurities and wounds were planted by someone else, but I happily went along with it, and watered them until they grew strong and rooted. This is why it’s hard to change aspects of oneself: time. With some of my “stuff”, I have spent a good two decades perpetuating it, triggering it, making it bigger, turning it darker.
Time goes by so slowly, when you finally accept and decide that you want to change and become a better version of yourself, and to love yourself. Alongside my recent epiphany, I realised that the sole reason why I find it difficult to fully love myself, and to accept love from others, is that I don’t trust myself and others. But this is where it gets a bit tricky: over the years, I have received both negative and positive criticism, but I chose to believe the negative. Why is that? Why do we do this? Why, if there is evidence of both love and hate in our lives, do we find it so much easier to accept the hate?
I’m currently reading a really interesting book called Letting Go, by David R. Hawkins, where the author has managed to rank emotions based on the energy they emit, their vibration. Don’t ask me exactly how he has done this, but it actually makes perfect sense to me. Emotions like shame, fear, grief, guilt, anger, are all on a lower scale, and therefore easier to reach, as they require less effort to both experience and maintain. I mean, wouldn’t you say on a practical level, that feeling shame is actually much easier than feeling love or joy? It would follow that the same goes for life narratives and self-beliefs. It is easier to accept the negative ones.
And if you consider the amount of time you have spent criticising yourself, versus the amount of time you have spent loving yourself, you may begin to get a glimpse of the journey ahead of you. For me, even the thought of saying “I love myself” out loud, makes my eyes spontaneously roll a dozen times! It’s clear and absolute cynicism on my part. Because let’s face it: the other main aspect of loving myself is the fact that I will have to let go of all these narratives that I have believed, reinforced, and lived. The narratives that say that I’m not good enough, or worthy, or lovable. I spent my teenage years believing and telling myself that I was unworthy, and then I spent my 20s believing and telling myself that I was damaged. Why did I expect that at 30, when I have finally decided that I’ve had enough of these narratives, that I can suddenly believe a new one? I certainly believe that I can do it, but I also know that this won’t happen overnight. Why would I suddenly believe that I love myself, when I have spent the last two decades believing, doing, and acting otherwise?
It’s not all doom and gloom, however. From my own personal experiences of healing, and being a therapist to many, many clients, this is something that I have learned: if I choose to spend more time focusing on my positive traits, on positive narratives, on positive evidence of love, affection, and joy, then the negative ones will inevitably become weaker. Because that which we focus on, grows. This is why exploring one’s past traumas and wounds is a very delicate process. One needs to accept and investigate certain life events, but do it too often or too deeply, and you’re actually reinforcing the experiences, rather than healing them. Shining light on something painful is often the first big step. Accepting that it happened is the second. Exploring the emotional aftermath is the third, and letting go is the fourth. Once we have truly let go of something, once we have truly surrendered, that thing no longer has power over us.
This is what I’m currently working on: exploring and letting go of the patterns and narratives of self-hate. Letting go of unworthiness and feeling damaged. This is difficult because I’m under the wrong impression that I’ve lived with these for longer than I’ve lived with messages of love, including self-love. But if I’m really honest with myself, I can easily go back in time and pull out plenty of evidence that, in fact, I’m worthy and have been immensely loved throughout my life. The difficulty lies in letting go of this warped version of my life which I have been holding on to, because it feeds into the shame, fear, and victimhood of my own ego, which as I’ve mentioned earlier, are much easier to connect to than the higher frequency emotions of love and joy.
But isn’t the rest so much better? Aren’t love and joy so much better than shame and fear? All the people that I’ve met and deeply bonded with, all the places that I’ve lived in and visited, all the amazing experiences I’ve had? Yes, they are immensely better. And as I move forward in my quest to live in a more loving and kinder narrative of my own life, these are the experiences that I need to focus on and these are the stories that I need to remember and re-tell, because they will allow me to raise the frequency and vibration of emotions that I experience on a daily basis, and ultimately be able to love myself without spontaneously rolling my eyes at the thought or feeling of self-love.
Ryan Campinho Valadas