It’s taken me a few days to put this into the right words. I’m still not entirely satisfied but I just want to get it out there. So here goes.
I started working on my self-confidence a couple of years ago. And by ‘working on’ I mean ‘building up from scratch’.
I spent 5-10 minutes every day telling myself that my toes are beautiful. My feet are beautiful. My heels are beautiful. My ankles are beautiful. My calves are beautiful. My shins are beautiful, etc all the way up to my head. You can see why it took me up to 10 minutes.
For the first month I felt completely ridiculous. Beautiful shins aren’t a thing, and even if they were then mine would not fit into that category. But I kept doing it anyway.
In the second month I started actually believing some of the things I was saying. I kinda do have pretty white nails, I love the shape of my eyes, my hair is really shiny.
I eventually got to the stage of knowing that every word I said was true, and I only repeated them every day to make sure I never forgot. If I bumped into the me of two years ago she probably wouldn’t recognise me, because this level of self-love seemed impossible to her.
This was huge progress for me. However, after all my blog-hopping recently I realise that something is missing. Of course it’s healthy to not hate the way I look, and of course it feels good to feel beautiful.
I am a good, if somewhat disorganised, friend. (I was only 10 months late with that birthday present…)
I am a pretty good salsa dancer.
I am a very good singer.
I am a grade 6 flautist.
I am a brilliant Administrator. Because I am an automatic alphabetiser (that’s how my mind rolls).
I can bake, crochet, sew, and all manner of other creative things.
I am far stronger than people think. In every way. As my mum once told me, I am steel.
So I’m a fairly well-rounded human being. Great. But the other day a thought occurred that takes this one step further: Even if none of those statements were true, I would still be enough.
I would still be enough.
Of course I would like to do something great and make my mark on the world. But I don’t have to. I don’t need to list my achievements or somehow justify my existence. I don’t need an excuse for being.
I am, therefore I am worthy. I am enough.