I really like me.
I’m not just saying that because I just had 2 glasses of wine. In fact, I can remember a time not too long ago when I couldn’t say that at all.
I really, really like me. I’m proud of me. I like how I look, I like what I’ve accomplished, I like how I think…. I enjoy my own company, even when the “crazies” set in. I’m neurotic, I worry, I’m always anxious… but that’s a part of me – it fits, so I wear it proudly.
I’m always amazed at all the wonderful, beautiful people in my life who don’t see themselves for what they are. Women, especially, but men too. You “have” to have this, or you “have” to be that. A size 2, a BMW, a prestigious job… It wreaks such havoc on their happiness. Somehow, in the time between my unfortunate encounter with anxiety and today, I learned to really appreciate myself – warts and all. And it’s takes such a load off to be able to see the things I could improve, but like me anyway.
It rubs people the wrong way, sometimes, that I’m not afraid to reveal my imperfections. Or maybe I sound a little too cocky when I talk about what I’m good at – and too honest when I talk about what I’m NOT good at. I kinda don’t care anymore – that’s their problem.
I recognize I’m not perfect. But I like me anyway!
It occurred to me today that the world would be so much better if only more people liked themselves exactly as they are, and extended that same courtesy to others.
Just thought I’d share.