grrltastic (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
grrltastic) wrote2014-04-19 07:05 pm
grrltastic) wrote2014-04-19 07:05 pm
Entry tags:
Figuring it out.
I've been missing my grandma a lot lately. I'm sure there are several factors combining to bring up these feelings, not the least of which is that last week was the four year anniversary of her passing. But more than that, I find myself frequently wishing she was still around so I could share my recent successes in life with her - as a kid, she was one of the biggest motivators in my life to succeed grade-wise. She always took a very vested interest in my school work and progress. I know she'd be proud to see me excelling in a math- and science- heavy curriculum.
But a couple of nights ago, my overwhelming nostalgia motivated me to pull out the Austin volume of my paper journal. I read over everything from around the time that I got married, until just after I moved to Portland.
It was interesting to see, really, just how far I've come in terms of self-love and acceptance. I did not always like me; I thought I was weak, needy, damaged, and largely inconsequential. Then, after my divorce, I filled up page after page with forced self-affirmations. I wrote words about how I was worthwhile and deserving, event though the conviction behind them was shaky. I was blown away to see how much energy I dedicated to learning how to love the imperfect person that I am. And now I am at a point where I am my own biggest fan. I am the most important person in the world to me, and I prioritize my health and well-being in ways that I was never able to before.
I know that I am not perfect, and that just because I think I'm the best thing since sliced bread doesn't mean that everyone else will. But I know that I am a valuable, worthwhile person.
But a couple of nights ago, my overwhelming nostalgia motivated me to pull out the Austin volume of my paper journal. I read over everything from around the time that I got married, until just after I moved to Portland.
It was interesting to see, really, just how far I've come in terms of self-love and acceptance. I did not always like me; I thought I was weak, needy, damaged, and largely inconsequential. Then, after my divorce, I filled up page after page with forced self-affirmations. I wrote words about how I was worthwhile and deserving, event though the conviction behind them was shaky. I was blown away to see how much energy I dedicated to learning how to love the imperfect person that I am. And now I am at a point where I am my own biggest fan. I am the most important person in the world to me, and I prioritize my health and well-being in ways that I was never able to before.
I know that I am not perfect, and that just because I think I'm the best thing since sliced bread doesn't mean that everyone else will. But I know that I am a valuable, worthwhile person.