(no subject)
Alright, I see the growth available in being uncomfortable. I pray that I stop resisting it and start seeking it out.
Here, in this onslaught of self-hatred, I need centering. An anchor. It's not that I try to hate myself, nor do I actually. I just stop remembering that the voices in my head aren't actually mine. That they belong to magazines and TV shows, to ex-boyfriends and my father. My grandmother's voice especially telling me all about my lousy skin and stringy hair. My poochy belly. The PMS makes it worse, the lack of sleep and coffee. Then I'm uncomfortable again, even after the breathing and trying to self-soothe, and all I want is my man to tell me I'm alright. You're ok. Someone is here to look after you.
I know he's not the answer. Maybe the key to the answer lies hidden in him. Maybe the arrow that points to the key. Either way, the answer is in me and has been all along. I know that I can manifest what I want, so why do I fall victim to this victimhood? Boo hoo poor me no one will love me. Well, no, they won't, until YOU love you. The fucked up part is that it's an ongoing process, and this process is not linear so this backward slide is throwing me for a loop.
I meant what I said when I burned my dress. I vow to love myself first. Vows take commitment, and they take remembering. They take unwavering faith that the vow itself is the answer, and staying within those vows will make it all work.
I commit to first and foremost love myself as a whole, complete and perfect being.
I commit to remembering my Divinity.
I commit to remembering my deep and abiding love for myself.
I commit to remembering that my creative soul is an expression of God, and is to be shared in abundance. It is my duty as a Child of God to share it.
I commit to remembering to listen to and respect my intuition as it is a powerful guide.
I vow to treat myself with Love and kindness.
I vow to provide myself with opportunities for love, snuggles, hugs and kisses.
I vow to create a joyful, playful and positive life.
I vow to hold myself to my word, in integrity with what God is: Love, Kindness, Compassion and non-judgment.
I vow to respect my body as a temple and share it with only those who revere and worship me.
I vow to make opportunities to have and deepen my creative practices and to drop the shame that holds me back from being completely expressed.
I know that I have the capacity to make this a different story. I've done it before. I've done better before. Left an entire lifetime in the dust. Changed names, cities, skins. Stories are more difficult, surely, but not impossible. they just need to be replaced with more suitable stories. A leap of faith. Karmic? Do I believe in coincidence? That two people randomly find each other and chaos ensues? Of course not. So faithfulness is knowing that whatever is happening is for the highest good. Gratitude for the uncomfortable places, as hard and fucked up as they are some times. I'm grateful for the opportunity and I'm grateful to learn more about this place in my life that isn't quite balanced, and could be made easier on me and whomever it is that I'm dating. I'm grateful to be addressing something that hasn't been addressed as well as it could've been and has caused me and others pain.
And I still wish he would fucking call me back. Dammit.
Here, in this onslaught of self-hatred, I need centering. An anchor. It's not that I try to hate myself, nor do I actually. I just stop remembering that the voices in my head aren't actually mine. That they belong to magazines and TV shows, to ex-boyfriends and my father. My grandmother's voice especially telling me all about my lousy skin and stringy hair. My poochy belly. The PMS makes it worse, the lack of sleep and coffee. Then I'm uncomfortable again, even after the breathing and trying to self-soothe, and all I want is my man to tell me I'm alright. You're ok. Someone is here to look after you.
I know he's not the answer. Maybe the key to the answer lies hidden in him. Maybe the arrow that points to the key. Either way, the answer is in me and has been all along. I know that I can manifest what I want, so why do I fall victim to this victimhood? Boo hoo poor me no one will love me. Well, no, they won't, until YOU love you. The fucked up part is that it's an ongoing process, and this process is not linear so this backward slide is throwing me for a loop.
I meant what I said when I burned my dress. I vow to love myself first. Vows take commitment, and they take remembering. They take unwavering faith that the vow itself is the answer, and staying within those vows will make it all work.
I commit to first and foremost love myself as a whole, complete and perfect being.
I commit to remembering my Divinity.
I commit to remembering my deep and abiding love for myself.
I commit to remembering that my creative soul is an expression of God, and is to be shared in abundance. It is my duty as a Child of God to share it.
I commit to remembering to listen to and respect my intuition as it is a powerful guide.
I vow to treat myself with Love and kindness.
I vow to provide myself with opportunities for love, snuggles, hugs and kisses.
I vow to create a joyful, playful and positive life.
I vow to hold myself to my word, in integrity with what God is: Love, Kindness, Compassion and non-judgment.
I vow to respect my body as a temple and share it with only those who revere and worship me.
I vow to make opportunities to have and deepen my creative practices and to drop the shame that holds me back from being completely expressed.
I know that I have the capacity to make this a different story. I've done it before. I've done better before. Left an entire lifetime in the dust. Changed names, cities, skins. Stories are more difficult, surely, but not impossible. they just need to be replaced with more suitable stories. A leap of faith. Karmic? Do I believe in coincidence? That two people randomly find each other and chaos ensues? Of course not. So faithfulness is knowing that whatever is happening is for the highest good. Gratitude for the uncomfortable places, as hard and fucked up as they are some times. I'm grateful for the opportunity and I'm grateful to learn more about this place in my life that isn't quite balanced, and could be made easier on me and whomever it is that I'm dating. I'm grateful to be addressing something that hasn't been addressed as well as it could've been and has caused me and others pain.
And I still wish he would fucking call me back. Dammit.