I'm tired of the goal being palatability. To be easy to live with. To continually sand off every rough edge of myself until I am all easy breezy and smooth.
Lately, I have been trying a radical practice.
Everytime something comes up within me that is ugly, I look at it honestly, and love it as best as I can.
I send love, warmth, compassion, and care to the parts of me I deem unlovable.
I send love to the abrasive part.
All the parts I find hardest to live with, I love and radically accept as they are. Seeing them as evidence of my beautiful humanity. My gorgeous messiness. My humongous feelings.
I have never made long lasting meaningful change from shame, guilt, and punishment. Hating myself never rendered positive results.
I have changed numerous things about myself through love and compassion. Healing from addiction, eating disorders, and truly horrific habit of self-harm and self-sabotage.
And yet, this feels similar but different.
In the throws of despair and addiction it was logical to say, I can love me, and these things must change.
At this current phase, I am saying: even if I am unable to change these parts, even if I stay this neurotic, abrasive, and emotional, I still love myself completely.
From this stance, I am less desperate.
From this stance, I am content alone.
And I find, that I'd rather be alone than force myself to become more palatable.