Am I a good person? No. But do I try to be better every single day? Also no. I’m not ashamed to say that the person I love the most in the world is myself. Trust me, it sounds even better when said out loud. Some will call me narcissistic, others an egomaniac. I won’t blame them. You see, there’s a thin line between narcissism and self-love and for now, I’m ice-skating around that line like in Princess On Ice. I’m going to give you a bit of context to that story of mine, so buckle up baby, because this article is brought to you by RedBull, anti-depressants and approximately zero hours of sleep.
This “eat pray love” type of awakening didn’t come to me because I wasn’t loved growing up nor because I’ve been rejected times after times. Although, realising I wasn’t Julia Roberts had its toll on me. I’ve had an amazing if not crazy childhood and I’ve had my fair share of girlfriends, some crazier than others. However, when the age came for Mother Nature to give boys and girls their respective gifts, she had other plans for me. I didn’t get acne; my voice didn’t break… instead, I got depression. Boom. Mic drop. Mother Nature had roasted me like a turkey on Christmas Eve.
I won’t bore you with all the disagreements that ensued but it quickly became a vicious circle. In a nutshell, whenever I had my life sorted out and miraculously managed to get a girlfriend, I’d mess it up. I’d be incapable of loving her properly and would reject her love due to my constant mood swing and the wreck that was my mind. I’d end up thinking I wasn’t worthy of her, I would end our relationship and go back to be single and ready to mingle.
We accept the love we think we deserve. I thought I didn’t deserve any. I thought I wasn’t worth loving. Horrifying, how your own mind can twist your thoughts. Sometimes I’m wondering if Stephen King isn’t writing my narrative. One of the many “gifts” that comes with depression is that you’re you’re constantly worrying about your relationship towards others. “Oh Sweet Caroline Anxiety”. Do they love you, do they think you’re annoying? You become hypersensitive to a point it becomes exhausting, it prevents me from taking naps. Either that or the remorse of not studying for midterms. Needless to say, it was more Depression & Anxiety than Netflix & Chill for me.
Now, what follows isn’t a story about how I got rid of depression. Apparently, it’s like herpes or a crazy ex-girlfriend, it keeps coming back. So, I decided to make it my ride or die bitch. I learnt how to live with it and, tadaa, here I am. Queue fireworks and trumpets, I love being extra. I’m sure we all have that friend that gives great advices about life and relationship but strangely he’s single and not happier than anyone else. When I read that, I couldn’t think of any of my friend doing that and that’s when I had a revelation. First, mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell. Also, if I didn’t have this friend, then I was that friend. #relatable
The biggest epiphany was that all of it was true. I wasn’t following any of the advices I gave nor the lifestyle I was preaching. The latest in date, to a friend trying to find her Beast in a world full of Gastons, “how do you wanna be loved if you don’t even love yourself?” (FYI, she still single if you wanna holla at her). Loving ourselves is how we teach other to love us. I don’t need to be Missy Elliot to tell you that you’re worth it. You are. I am. At least, that’s what I convinced myself, but it’s enough to get you started. Get to know yourself. Have a Bridget Jones phase and then go on a self-discovery journey, minus the meditation bullshit. Get as passionate about yourself as I am, baked, in front of Planet Earth. If only Sir David Attenborough could narrate my life though.
Become your Number One priority. I’ll never say this enough but TREAT YO SELF! You thought those flowers on Valentines Day were from a secret admirer? Nah ah! A dozens roses from me to me. You don’t even need a special occasion, Me wanted some Mexican food so Me treated Me to a Chipotle burrito (the other love in my life). What if you’re getting bored because you think you know yourself like the palm of your hand? (yeah, doesn’t really work in that context, my bad). One word: Spontaneity. Do something spontaneous once a week, once a day. Pay for someone coffee, compliment someone random, try a new activity. Spice up your life! Find your limits and push past them like pushing children away from the queue when there’s free ice-cream. Sorry not sorry.
This “Know yourself, Treat Yourself” way of thinking isn’t an end in itself, it didn’t cure my depression but it allowed me to put a leash on it and turn my life around. It helped me understand what I wanted in life, how I wanted to be treated by others and where to set my expectations. I have given myself better insight about my life since than that bearded dude upstairs ever did in 20 years of me praying to him. God is definitely that guy in a group chat that sees everything but doesn’t reply.
Loving yourself may seem narcissistic but you owe it to yourself for putting up with you. You are your number one fan, you will never quit on yourself, you got your back until the end. You smart, you loyal, you appreciate that. Look at me, I liked myself so much I put a ring on it. Loving yourself is becoming independent, realising your happiness doesn’t rely on anybody else but you. Now if you’ll excuse me, all this love is making me sick. Or is it all the alcohol I drank to get this much emotional?