Why is it so hard to like ourselves?

On Now: Or is it just me?

Besides opening presents on Christmas Eve instead of Christmas morning, my family didn’t have any Christmas traditions. There was no special meal or ritual or activity that we did just around the holidays. But it makes sense because there was no structure around my childhood, there was nothing you could count on, nothing you could truly look forward to without the worry of that expectation not being met.

Now that I have a son, I’m trying to start our own traditions—things that can grow with us and with him as he gets older. I started thinking about what I would’ve liked when I was a kid and really, I just wanted both of my parents to be home. I wanted both of them to be present. But Pressley already has that. I’ve scaled back work and writing projects this month so that he can have me, all of me, as much as he wants. Then I thought about what kind of traditions we could start that would give back to us, but also give back to others. 

Enter the advent calendar or what I like to call the Kindness Calendar. How it works is you come up with twenty-five acts of kindness and you do one action every day until Christmas starting on December 1st. The calendar I bought has little felt pockets that you can stuff with each act of kindness. What I love about this is that it’s customizable and can grow with Pressley as he gets older. What we have in our kindness calendar this year will be different from when he’s ten or twelve or fifteen. He will be able to contribute his own ideas and activities, and I am so excited to see what he comes up with.

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This brings me to what this piece is really about: self-love.

One of the things I wrote down for our kindness calendar was to share five things you like about yourself.

Yikes, right? Or am I the only one that finds this incredibly hard to do?

In the mornings before Pressley is awake, I peek to see what we get to do that day. A few days ago, I pulled the share five things you like about yourself one and I keep pushing it back and replacing it with something else from the calendar like donating blankets to an animal shelter or giving someone a compliment.

The idea is that, as a family, we each say five things we like about ourselves. I am aware that Pressley can’t really share yet, so for him, my partner and I will each share five things we like about him. Sounds easy, right? Well, yeah, I have an infinity of things that I love about my son, but five things about myself. That’s really asking a lot.

My therapist says I have self-worth issues. Yeah, you think? So we’re working on that, and I’m hoping this will help. To prepare myself for having to actually speak good things about myself out loud to my partner and my child without cringing, I thought I’d start by writing them down and well, sharing them with you because maybe this is something you also struggle with. Maybe this will open you up to thinking about what things you like about yourself, at least that’s my hope.

So, here goes.

I’m a loving mom. I’ve always been someone who loves easy. Someone who gives and gives and gives, and somehow still, there’s always more love left to give. But nothing could have prepared me for how much I love my son. He may not grow up in the nicest house with the coolest toys or go on the most exciting vacations or wear the fanciest hand-dyed organic cotton clothes, but he will know he is loved. He will feel it the first moment his eyes open to the morning, in the way I simmer his oatmeal, in the songs we sing to make the everyday tasks like washing hands, getting dressed, and brushing teeth more fun, in the way I sit on the floor with him so he can look me in the eyes and see that I am paying attention, in the way we run around outside with no plans and no rules to hinder our imaginations, in the way I kiss his face a million times a day, and in the way I read him eleventy-thousand books before bed.

I put my all into what I create. I am dedicated to my craft and my art and doing what it takes to create something of value, for myself, and also for those who come in contact with it. I pour my heart into every essay, story, book, and caption—not only because I don’t come to the page lightly, but also because I know how valuable time is. It means the world to me that anyone would spend even a second of theirs to read my words.

I accept people for who they are while at the same time honoring who they’re trying to be. It’s been a long road, a long life, of navigating my parents’ addictions and the mistakes, setbacks, and downfalls that have come with them. I’ve learned to look past their faults and acknowledge their growth, accepting the pieces of themselves they’re capable of giving and the love they have in whatever form it takes. It hasn’t always been easy, but together we are healing, and acceptance is at the center. 

I take notice of the little things and I am grateful for all of them. Everything can be crumbling around me as it so often was in my chaotic childhood and still often is in this shitshow of a country we call America, and still, I find something to be grateful for, some way to find the beauty in it. My son’s laugh, the fireflies in the field, the sound of my dog breathing when he sleeps, winter sunlight, my mother trying her best even when her best still resembles fucking up, the moon, my father’s voice even when it’s sad, my husband asking, how did you sleep? as he does every single morning, time to read even if it’s only five minutes—I find peace and gratitude in all of it.

I am dependable and trustworthy. I am someone who can be counted on. When I say I’m going to be there, I am. When I say I’m going to take care of it, I do. I am the godparent for my brother’s daughters (and dogs), meaning if anything happens to my brother and his wife, I will be responsible for caring for his children and his animals. I’m also the godparent for everyone else’s dogs in our entire family. Why? Because everyone knows they can count on me. I will give my all to loving and enriching the lives of any being in my care. It’s just who I am and I am damn proud of that.

Whew. That was awkward. Why is it so hard to say things we like about ourselves? It feels like bragging, like, look at me, look at how great I am, and it just feels gross. But it shouldn’t. We should be proud of who we are and celebrate the things we are good at, the places where we shine, and the things that make us who we are. So, do you want to give it a shot? 

If you feel up to it, please leave a comment with one to five things (or ten) that you like about yourself.

I’d love to read as little or as much as you’d like to share.