He sent me last weekend to get my hair done, and it was like a switch was turned on in my mental hallway. I began to see how feeling good could make me a better wife and mother. I remembered how great it felt to exercise, to do something just for me. I thought about my solo camping trip earlier this year, and how marvellous I felt after four days of mental decluttering.
I don't know how to love myself. I'm learning, though. Little things, here and there. Simple things, which probably aren't even a second thought for most people. Acts of radical kindness to myself, like a cup of tea in the sunshine. Or *gasp* buying new underpants. Taking time to blow my hair dry, and actually style it. Actually using some of the multitude of special creams, perfumes, and beauty potions I've stored away because "I don't have time, it's not practical, it's not like anyone cares, I'm not trying to impress anyone, etc". Honestly I can't believe I've convinced myself that those thoughts are true. How long does it take to slap some hand cream on? And when did looking after myself become impractical? When did my husband, my best friend - when did I start thinking it was okay to not make an effort for him? I remember when we met, I put so much thought into what I'd be wearing for our dates. When did I stop dating him? He has seen me at my absolute worst, and is still here. Isn't that a man worth a bit of effort? Aren't I worth a bit of effort?
I think so. Or at least I'm beginning to think so. And speaking of loving myself, I'm going to give myself the radical kindness of a good night's sleep, and sign off here.