Love myself more. Love myself more and let the rest go. It’ll all fall into place, if you just love yourself more.
Love myself more.
Why is my immediate response to that not, “YAAASS, LET’S GO!!!!!!!”
Instead, I’m sitting here like, “Love myself. How do I love myself more? Do I not love myself? How much do I not love myself? I mean sure I could improve in this area. But by how much?”
Like it matters how much I do or don’t love myself. I should just do it more. Not stop to analyse it and give myself an excuse to NOT do it. An excuse to sit and think about it for another two years. Float it by everyone I know. Hear how it’s a good idea and I should really do it. And then see that someone else beat me to it, did it better and I’ll just be like “Yah no, she’s doing a better job at that than I ever could so I’mma just go over here and go back to NOT making those improvements in myself.”
Why am I so intent on that I shan’t accept myself or have compassion towards myself? Why do I need excuses to lean away from love? I mean love is love. Love for me. Love for you. Love for them. Love for this. Love for that. Love for the world.
Love is love. That energy of love is the point, not who it is or isn’t directed at.
And can it truly flow freely if I don’t include everything in it?
If it’s like water, it covers everything equally and without discrimination. So why do I discriminate?
And who taught me that I should not have love, abundance and acceptance as a woman? That I should spend my days worrying about what I’ve done right or wrong? Who I’ve cared for, what tasks have I completed?
This is some sort of subliminal patriarchal programming that’s snuck past the feminist at the gate.
What I need is to take some next level action. Give myself the gift of love.
Shine bright, say that this is what I want. And believe in myself, in every cell and fibre of my being, that it’s okay that I said it. It’s okay to want what I want.
No apologies needed.
And trust that love will carry me.