Why do I love myself? I don’t think it’s a question that can be simply answered, and that is due to the fact that there is nothing simple about navigating the long, messy, imperfectly cracked road to loving yourself. I also believe there isn’t one correct answer to the question of “how do you learn to love yourself?”, but maybe multiple correct answers from all kinds of people who are working towards the common goal of finding true love in who they are. So, while I believe this isn’t the only answer, I’ll provide a glimpse down the long, messy, imperfectly cracked road I walk along every day to try and achieve loving myself fully.
For me, it starts with forgiveness. Forgiving each era of myself that stacks upon one another like a wobbly tower made of unevenly cut wooden blocks. Forgiving the lonely little girl who never asked for help. Forgiving the shy little girl who was too afraid to speak her mind. Forgiving the confused little girl that made the decisions that have brought me here where I stand today. Choosing every day to love that little girl regardless of her mistakes, and understanding that she and I have so much more in common than I can wrap my adult brain around.
Like her, we are both learning as we go. Born into each today as someone who knows more about ourselves than we did each and every yesterday. By forgiving and understanding her, as well as all the version of myself that came after, I repair that wobbly tower of blocks, supported by the love that I couldn’t give to them at the time. Because how can I find it within myself to love who I am without loving how I got here?
I keep in mind that I am still very young. Eight-teen years old really just means I’m a teenager with a longer leash, the right to vote, and to blow my paychecks on tattoos without a parent signature. Someday I’m sure I will look back at who I am right now, and probably find dozens of reasons why I need to forgive her. However, with a more stable foundation of love for the versions of myself I’ve forgiven, comes the ability to see the parts of who I currently am that I admire deeply. Like the fact that I am extremely creative, I have a huge heart that I plan on using to help people for the rest of my life, and I am an incredibly determined individual who will give one hundred and ten percent to anything I am passionate about. My words are never empty, and my heart and mind are always full.
I am positive that I will pick up handfuls of reasons to love myself as I understand myself more and walk this road hand in hand with the girls I have been, and the women I have yet to step into.
On this long, messy, imperfectly cracked road, I will find brightly colored, unique flowers growing in the cracked pavement. And when I reach the end of my road, I hope to have a magnificent bouquet to show for it. One that I can hold up proudly in front of me and say, “this is me, and I absolutely love her”.

Dear Carolyn-Jean,

It’s getting very difficult to feel proud of myself. Former classmates ask me what I’ve been up to since graduating, and it takes me about three and a half seconds to answer that question with a “Not much”, that I push out as blithe as my conscience allows me too. Then I sit there, listening to them talk about new friends they’ve made, new places they’ve visited, these absolutely beautiful narratives they are creating for themselves with the newfound freedom of adulthood. I smile and congratulate them on their success, but I worry the envy is starting to unveil itself from underneath my expressions of admiration.
People who know me well, know that this isn’t where I wanted to be in this point in time. I talked big talk, filled with optimism and ambition. I wanted to be in Italy or Denmark, fulfilling my dreams of studying abroad through a program that I was more than ready to apply for. But now I gaze through the screen of my phone and view the photos and videos my peers post from their travels. It was my dream, and they’re living it. And that is a really difficult thing to sit with.
I was an incredibly grateful and content person, but I now feel myself overflowing with anger and jealousy, and it makes me feel even sicker than I already am. Did the universe think I was underserving of the future I desired so badly? Is this what I deserve? A body that’s cemented to tired familiarity and routine. A body that’s rejecting everything. Food, medicine, sleep. Have I been deemed undeserving of those things as well?
How is it that you no longer find yourself lying awake, during the nights of insufferable pain and nausea, circling that question in your head? You can look at someone who is abled bodied and achieving things you once dreamed of achieving and feel nothing but joy for that person.
It’s because you’ve shut down the comparison game. All the anger you felt towards your illness has been tranquilized by the act of accepting your illness and appreciating the aspects of your life that have been improved since getting diagnosed with an auto immune disease.
You no longer let your fear of sickness get in the way of anything you want to do. You take chances. You started going to festivals and concerts again, because you trust your body and the signs that it gives you. You make plans with people that you didn’t get to see much the year you were really sick. But you’ve also learned how important it is to find people who make an effort to understand your illness. You no longer feel guilty for having to drop out of plans at the last minute because of a flare up. Or for having to leave commitments early due to medication side effects making your body feel foreign. The people in your life have more understanding and grace for you than you ever thought was possible.
You have also developed more grace and understanding for yourself and your body. Understanding that there are things about the physical appearance of your body that you cannot change due to your illness and having to relearn how to be okay with the new appearance of a body you worked so hard to keep healthy. I tell myself that there are things out of my control, and I need to accept that. But I find that somedays I am still far from fully believing that.
When explaining all my emotions towards my illness to people, I have found myself coming back to the emotion of grief. This has confused some people, but not those who are also managing a chronic illness. They understand how painful it is to grieve things as little as favorite foods that we can no longer eat, to grieving the immense loss of the reality where my body would be able to sustain a pregnancy. It all feels like I am grieving the loss of a life that I haven’t even lived yet. But the fact that it is isn’t attainable anymore, causes enough frustration to begin grieving.
One day I won’t have to long for the life that I dream of having, because I’ll be able to be content in the one I am living inside of this body that’s been given to me. Our body that is teaching me so much about perseverance, optimism, resilience, and how to be grateful for every little moment of peace that shows me that I am still more than deserving of an incredible future.

To the future that awaits,

Carolyn-Jean Cox