I am rattling around, looking for things to do.
“Why don’t you take some time for yourself?”
I ignore this inner squeak and continue my hunt. I check my calendar, my to-do list, my emails, ah yes here is one unanswered message. OK good… What shall I do? Surely there’s something I need to do?
“Why don’t you take some time for yourself?”
Again this voice! What a question! I don’t have time for myself! I have so much to do. OK so I can read something for work or set up an event or force myself to write for my blog because if-I-don’t-people-will-forget-that-I-exist-and-then-no-one-will-know-who-I-am-and-I-will-be-a-complete-failure-and… and… and…
“Why don’t you take some time for yourself?”
Then, and only reluctantly, I begin to consider this question.
This is a new voice for me. I am not in the habit of taking time for myself. Culturally and professionally, I am a giver, a people-pleaser. And people-pleasers never sleep. At least until everyone is happy. Which means people-pleasers never sleep.
The irony to all this is that I write a lot about self-love and building a softer relationship with yourself. And still I am also the hardest slave driver I will ever meet.
Slowly slowly, however, the habit is fading. Because it is only a habit. I choose to find things to do, I choose to bend over backwards to make everyone happy, I choose to burn myself out.
This is such an empowering realisation for me – to know that a) it is a choice and b) I can choose differectly.
So why choose differently?
Well, mainly, I’m tired. Nervous breakdowns are exhausting. And even the mini-crises I have every week are starting to take their toll.
I could spout lots of theories as to why I crack so often (hypersensitive, easily overwhelmed, ex-anorexic with thin skin, perfectionist etc) but none of that really matters in the midst of a meltdown. It doesn’t help me find a way to cope.
A lot of the time, I don’t like this part of me. Self acceptance is that 100kg weight I am still training to lift. Too many days I despair about myself: “why am I like this? Why can’t I be more capable? Why can’t I be like X instead?”
… This is until I realise I am turning myself into a victim of the world. Which is the most disempowering thing I can ever do for myself. It makes me forget that I do have a choice. Because once we accept what we have, we can decide what we are going to do with it.
So this is me: I cry A LOT, I’m paranoid sometimes, I take too much on and get overwhelmed, action films make me nervous, and if I don’t get my daily nap I’m an emotional wreak by the end of the week.
It’s like I’m a piece of glass.
But now… I am beginning to wonder: is that such a bad thing? Can’t I work with that? Isn’t it my duty to then treat myself like a piece of glass? Gently, softly, lovingly carry myself through this world so I can allow the light to shine through me.
To do this, properly, I will need some self-worth – I need to see my value in the world. Because when I see myself as worthless, I treat myself like I’m worthless. This is when I work too much, push too hard and force myself into contortions no humane human would ever attempt… just to put others first.
A piece of broken glass does little for the world. And I do not want to break.
I want to shine and glitter and amaze. And I want to do that in a way that inspires others to do the same.
Not by whipping myself into shape, but by carrying myself and honouring my presence.
Because I am here to serve. And I can only serve if I have served myself first. It sounds backwards but it’s true… remember: a piece of broken glass does little for the world.
So who do I want to be: shimmering glass or a cruel slave driver? A kind friend or a vicious sadist?
Because it’s a choice. Only ever a choice. And one I can make any time, any day, any moment… even now if I like.
I know how I want to choose… What about you?
Life'sLongTwist 