I have lived most of my life by letting others tell me how much I was worth.
It’s not the most tragic thing that can happen, but it’s top five for sure.
Self love is tricky. It sounds simple. It sounds like an easy thing to do. It sounds as if there are a bunch of cliches that get shared around on social media.
It sounds as if it’s about working out, eating right, drinking water, and getting plenty of sleep.
In fact, self love is pretty much like this:
“To be nobody butyourself in a worldwhich is doing its best day and night to make you likeeverybody else means to fight the hardest battlewhich any human being can fight and never stop fighting.”
― e.e. cummings
Self love is not about being perfect, or acting like you are, but about being unapologetically yourself.
I’m not everyone’s cup of tea. And guess what? Neither are you. No one ever is, unless you try to fit in, unless you try to please everyone, in which case you become what everyone needs/wants you to be until there’s not much of you left.
Yes, I am an acquired taste. Don’t like me? Acquire some taste.
Because I had to walk around with this hell within me for a long time. I had to go through life feeling as if no one could see the real me.
It’s cruel to yourself to act in a way that demands the limited respect and attention you get by being what others want you to be. It dulls the senses, it makes one weak, it makes one forget they even have a backbone.
You’re no longer trustworthy, even though all you’re trying to do is get other people to like you.
I know that there are other topics of interest to write about, and I could write about them, but I think that the struggle of those who are trying to be anything else but themselves in order to please everyone else, even the people they don’t like, is the type of quiet epidemic that does not kill, but rather makes it incredibly difficult to live.
We all but die once, but living? In hell? For years and years and years? Feeling as if the body you occupy is a house burning from the inside out?
That’s a special kind of hell, one that makes life unbearable in a way that you feel the quiet desperation of not having a voice grow into a shout over time.
We can all relate to some extent to the pain and anguish of not being accepted for who we are.
And there’s only one way to fix this. By telling yourself these words:
I am an acquired taste. Don’t like me? Acquire some taste.
This means that if someone doesn’t like you, it’s their loss. If someone gives up on you, it’s their loss.
Granted, it’s a simplistic truth, but it works well enough as long as you do your best to be your best self.
I do not have to be defined by others. I define myself. I love myself enough to know that it happens rarely that someone has your best interests at heart. It happens maybe once or twice in your life that someone’d truly ride or die with you.
Most often though, you are alone. Utterly and inconsolably so. You live as you dream. Alone. No matter who sleeps besides you at night.
And if you have to look in the heart and minds of others for your own sense of self-worth, you’ll be told over and over again that you’re not worth much.
After all, we all try to get the best deal possible for the things we want, and we try to pay as little as possible, so why would it be different when it comes to people?
So, yeah, I am an acquired taste, and if you don’t like me, you’d better acquire some taste.