kindness

 

birthday photo

Yesterday, I turned 35. I used to make a huge deal about my day, but somewhere along the line, I stopped feeling that special birthday buzz. Not sure if it was the February weather in Chicago that diminished the sparkle or if it was just adulthood. This year, I made a point of making a bigger deal out of it, for the first time since my 30th. In the last several days, I’ve had dinners with friends, brunch with more friends, spa time and date night with the hubs. Actually, he was the one who helped me to stop feeling guilty about taking time for myself this year.

I’ve been making a conscious decision to stop feeling guilty about a lot of things lately, as you may have noticed from a few previous posts. In honor of my birthday, I am taking the opportunity to make another change.

I am going to be kind to myself.

There are lots of ways that we can be less than lovely to ourselves with our internal monologue. I usually tend to pick on the fact that I am not always usually the fully put together version of myself that I want everyone to think I am. I know this is completely ridiculous. Life is short and there is a lot of unkindness in the world, so why am I wasting time, even if it’s only 30 seconds, being unkind to myself? Enough. I am going to hold myself accountable by putting it out there.

Baby Weight. Looking at myself during pregnancy, I had so much respect for my body and what it was doing. Why do I feel disdain for that same body after my babies are born? Those 10ish extra pounds are still with me a year later… I need to remember that they are there because I grew life and then continued breastfeeding each of my little guys for over a year. {Anyone else have a body that doesn’t abide by the adage that breastfeeding is the best way to lose baby weight?!} It’s frustrating that most of my clothes don’t fit at the moment, but I don’t need to hate on myself because of it.

My C-Section Scar. That scar is a symbol of a baby who was born safely. I couldn’t look at it for several weeks afterwards and when I finally did, I felt straight up maimed over the next few months. I’m used to it now, but I definitely need to work on feeling respectful toward that scar. I should respect it as a part of me and something that facilitated the safe arrival of my youngest, in the same way that I respected my pregnancies.

Perfection. I’ve been followed by feelings of inadequacy since I was a kid – early elementary school. As an adult, I put an extreme amount of pressure on myself to be perfect, as a way of compensating. I didn’t have the perfect childhood or adolescence, but who does… other than my husband, The Beave?? I sometimes I feel like I need to make up for those insecurities by having a photo-ready existence. The reality is that things are usually far from photo-ready and that is OKAY.

I’ve said for a while that I think it’s important to be authentic, in the spirit of following your heart and your gut, to live a meaningful life. But how can you really have authenticity if you aren’t embracing the things that make you you, but instead striving for something unrealistic? So, I need to stop being critical of myself and replace that criticism with the same kindness and love that I extend to the people around me. I need to cut myself some slack. I need to respect my scars.

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