It’s February.
I hate February.
Actually, it’s bigger than that.
It’s winter I hate.
Winter pisses me off.
Cold. Grey skies, short days. Losing gloves. Black ice.
February descends and my easy good times vaporize.
Going to the gym is hard. Everything is complicated, and I don’t want to leave my house.
My couch, to be precise.
And I noticed something: when I am down, there is something that I do that is worse than winter.
I start hating on myself for being down.
And I hardly even notice I am doing it; it is so automatic.
When men get angry or irritated, they express it. Out loud. And move along.
When women get angry, they turn it inwards, against themselves. Instead of screaming at winter, we silently scream at ourselves for being pissed or angry or depressed.
Why? Well, girls are supposed to be sugar and spice and everything nice. We don’t have a lot of experience moving the darkness through, in a healthy way, so instead we impale ourselves with it.
Unexpressed anger is just another form of self-hatred.
We can add it to the list – hating our bodies, our crows feet, our weight, blah blah blah.
Self-hatred is the new smoking. {Click to tweet}
It’s just gotta stop.
No one ever told me to loathe myself. I think I picked it up like you catch a virus. It’s kind of invisible: you wash your hand, touch a dirty sink, and you catch a cold. And I think just being around women who hated themselves and did not think very much of themselves taught me to hate myself.
That’s how it’s passed along, mother to daughter, for the past 5000 years.
You walk into a room thinking you’re nothing, you teach your daughter she’s nothing.
That’s how we catch it.
That’s how it spreads.
And if you think you’re nothing, are you going to ask for a raise? I don’t think so.
If you think you’re nothing, are you going to ask your husband to stop beating you? I doubt it.
If you think you’re nothing, are you going to stand for the relationship you long for? Maybe for a minute. But if somebody says, “I don’t think you will get what you want,” your heart will break, and you will crumble.
And soon, you won’t be able to rise again.
So, the question becomes – do you want to be in that dark, self-hating energy?
Or do you want to be the game changer – the woman who pulls the sword from the stone, and re-educates the world of women in a legacy of self-love?
It is not easy to decide to overturn the legacy of self-loathing.
It might involve yelling at winter – instead of yelling at yourself.
It might involve smooching your reflection in the mirror instead of criticizing it.
Or writing an ode to your jiggling thighs instead of berating them.
How much do you want to become a woman who generates the energy of self-love for others?
Women aren’t used to being that responsible or that powerful.
We have been taught how to be small. We now have to learn how to live large.
Self-hatred gets in the way of women getting what they want.
Fortunately, we – each one of us – have a choice.
Choice about how we want to perfume the air.
Choice about how we choose to love this body, this life.
It’s our legacy.
So, what’s your living legacy, right now? What fragrance remains when you leave a room? The fragrance of a woman standing defiantly on her own side? The scent of a woman loving her nooks and crannies?
Or the stench of self-loathing?
Come on – we can do this.
Hate winter all you like – but love yourself, your body, your mind, your deep passionate feelings.
We can do this.
Right now can be the moment to change your legacy.
We can perfume the air with the gorgeous sweet sweaty scent of you – standing loud and proud for your magnificence. Yes, even in wretchedly cold February.
In the comments below –
let me know… what self-hatred will you put back in its place today? What sword will you pull from the stone? How are you celebrating the privilege of being you?
