Sunday, 16 November 2014
This is going to be a more intimate post.
The other day L said , that he really loves that I never say negative things about myself.
I started thinking about that. Because L has said it before.
I have many friends who never say negative things about themselves. I love their company. It is energizing and loving and inspiring. Those are words I also often hear about myself.
The women I train with, or some of them, well, I hear what they say about themselves in the locker room after training. Some of the words are just horrible to hear, they very often call themselves ugly. Say they look like beast. I see a lot of women hiding their bodies, feeling ashamed of their bodies and their faces.
I used to try say something. That I wish they spoke of themselves with more love and respect. But is like talking to a wall. Nobody hears you.
Many of them are only slightly older than me, their bodies have given birth to wonderful children. Some of them have survived cancer. Some of them have lost dear ones. Some of them have had physically hard work. Some have been seriously ill. Some have experienced violence.
But many, all of them, have experienced joy and happiness. Laughter. Love.
Is it low self-asteem? Selfhatred is far too common. And I read somewhere that what you say becomes real. So if you keep saying negative things about you, they become real, for yourself, that is how you start viewing yourself and what you can and cannot do. And it doesn't really help whatever a friend, a partner/ wife/ husband/ , a colleague, a blogreader or an outsider says about you, that you are good enough, you are beautiful, you are worthy, you are talented.
I often get comments about how I do not look my age. That I look so much younger. I feel I should be so thankful, so happy. To look so much younger than I actually am. But I am not trying to look younger, not do I want to participate in the glorifying of youth. Obviously it is easy to say this from where I stand. Had it been the other way around, that I look far more older than what I am. I don't know, would I feel and act the same. To not try look younger.
I also once was told to appreciate the catcalling I was openly criticizing. Not everyone gets catcalled. Really? To appreciate sexual harassment? I used to get that a lot. Not so much now as I live in a small town, but just recently I was going to a local shop and in the parkinglot a man drove up to me and rolled down his window, and I thought he was going to ask for advise or something similar, instead he commented on my looks and I was so taken by surprise I didn't know what to say, then L caught up with me and he had heard what the asshole in the car said and the man quickly drove away when he realized I was accompanied. I wonder what would have happened had I not been accompanied? I would have been left with those words, alone, echoing, the you look so pretty, you're a pretty girl, you want a man, me...(sä oot nätti, sä oot nätti tyttö, sä haluut miehen, minut...). Believe me, I have been left with these words alone.The pretty girl words. The invitations for drinks. For coffee. The asking for your number. Where I live. If I have a boyfriend. If I have pretty sisters or friends. I am not alone. All women get this. I hate it. I want people to be respectful when they say things to others.
I don't mind being complimented, but catcalling is not complimenting.
This quote has been around for some time, unfortunately without source, I don't know who wrote it.
"It doesn’t make sense to call ourselves ugly, because we don’t really see ourselves. We don’t watch ourselves sleeping in bed, curled up and silent with chests rising and falling with our own rhythm. We don’t see ourselves reading a book, eyes fluttering and glowing. You don’t see yourself looking at someone with love and care inside your heart. There’s no mirror in your way when you’re laughing and smiling and happiness is leaking out of you. You would know exactly how bright and beautiful you are if you saw yourself in the moments where you are truly yourself."
On friday we attended a party. I felt I could be myself. I felt beautiful. I was accompanied by a beautiful soul, the most handsome cavalier one could wish for, dearest L. We enjoyed the company of friends. Enjoyed delicious food and wine. We danced a lot. I even managed to get caught up in a conversation with the chef, about food. I love food. I really enjoyed our talk about local food and just simply talking herbs, I so enjoyed the tea they served with the desert, and it was locally produced aswell.
Cykled home at midnight, both smiling and saying it out loud, life is beautiful!
Above is a lovely reminder. When we drank tea the other night, L said, this one must be saved. I agree. It is so true. To be beautiful means to be yourself.