As Yourself

“Love your neighbor.”

It’s a verse, a mantra, a way of life, a call to action, a life-changing commandment. I have it on postcards, banners, pictures, t-shirts, and have quoted it millions of times in my conversations, my prayers, and my inner world. It’s honestly been everywhere. And it is so, so meaningful.

But I remember my 13 or 14-year-old self reading the verse in the Bible- her mind glazed over about her shrively hair, too-large thighs, and how tight her shirts should be- discovering that the mantra has a second part. A caveat. A condition. 

“Love your neighbor as yourself.” 

Love, life-giving, selfless love, comes out of the love we have for ourselves. The way we love ourselves is inevitably the way we will love others- or, more true in my case, the way we will let others love us. 

I’ve come to be a confident person. I can’t say when exactly all the pieces came together or why but I’m rarely upset at my hair texture, thigh width, or clothing fit anymore. I see my flaws as features and my strengths as gifts. I have moments where I cry over yet another pair of ill-fitting jeans or catch myself bewildered by my anxiety or perfectionism run rampant yet again. But, on an average Tuesday, I’d love to tell you all the beautiful parts of me, all the ways I’m designed and grown and just so perfectly knit together, and just how wildly in love I am with myself, my neighbors, and my world- as they are rather than as they should be.

And I see how this way I love myself pours over to those around me. My willingness to admit my own flaws enables me to see the flaws of others- and love them anyway. To accept that we’re all messy with parts to play and just trying our best. It gives me glasses to see the most beautiful parts of people, to see the poetic in the mundane, to howl laughing at the idiosyncrasies and quirks of the person in the passenger seat. To emerge in the world with the message of I’ll care about you as much as you’ll let me. And even through unhealthy relationships and friendships, I’ve had a near unwavering sense of my own value and worth. That damn right you’re blessed to get to be in my life, for me to care about you, for my energy and time to be spent on you. And not in an arrogant or vain way, but in the way I’d think the same of my friends and family- valuing their time, talents, and attention as sacred and impactful. 

But I’ve come to discover that “as yourself” means more than a sense of confidence. 

It’s also a sense of care.

And I’m far too guilty of assuming that I don’t need care. I’m easy, low-maintenance, simple, really. I’ll adjust to whatever you need. It’s one of my biggest strengths- adaptability. I’ve been so caught up in caring as much as someone let me that I forgot to consider how much I wanted to be cared for. I’ve had no sense of how much care I got back. I’m the queen of obsessing over late holiday cards- never noticing that there’s no holiday card coming my way. Why stress over what another person isn’t even considering? And that isn’t pointed- different people show they care in different ways, but sometimes loving my neighbor as myself is letting myself not write holiday cards until midnight on Christmas Eve. They’ll be happy to get it whenever it comes. Just like I’m touched whenever they show they care for me.

But I’ve also been in situations where there was no care coming back. Or maybe an ounce for my gallon or five. And then, in my blind sense of loving my neighbor, I’d wonder why my tank was empty and they were still expecting more out of me. Why they were treating me like a gas station rather than a gift exchange. Realizing these patterns and finally letting myself call them what they were was a hard- but necessary- part of loving myself, and my neighbor. 

Too often narratives around “love” turn well-meaning, kind people into doormats that never say no, never question other’s needs, and never stop giving until they shrivel, burn out, and wonder how they got here. There’s plenty of people who need the talk of loving even when it’s inconvenient, of going the extra mile. The “I don’t how to explain you need to care about other people” talk. But then there are people like us. Who need the opposite talk. The “I don’t know how to explain you need to care about yourself” talk. Because a burned-out person can’t love well, period. 

And me, myself, and I had that talk last September when I was shriveled, burned out, and wondering how I got there- crying and angry and unable to articulate just about anything. All my inner self could mutter was I wanted to be cared for. I wanted someone to care for me without expecting anything in return- like I did for others so, so often. And, a lot of things shifted in and around me after those conversations. I entered October feeling pruned, a bit wounded, but cared for- ready to start the slow journey of healing, without expecting too much out of myself.

But then November hit and I wanted to do a million things. I had all those gallons of energy back. And as I went about joining this and starting that and working hard at all the things- absolutely stoked about all I could do, all I was capable of, all that brought me to life- I noticed some things. 

I also wanted too much out myself. I often put myself on the backburner- more interested in what I could produce than how I was doing. I was so demanding without for a second considering my wellbeing- assuming another drop of energy was to be used up immediately- regardless of anything else. I was almost surprised when hard emotions would pop up or I’d need a day to just feel things- bothered by the fact that my body and heart asked for anything when we were in the middle of doing so much. And sometimes we were just frustrated at each other- my face red and broken out and me red and broken up over the most acne I’ve had in ages, without considering for a second that my skincare routine was a nightly rinse- if I thought about it. 

A huge note about me is that nothing is pointless. Everything has some deeper meaning or message to it- next to nothing just is because it is. My barometer of if someone knows me is if they think I overthink things or if they get that that’s just how deep I think (not to say I don’t worry too much sometimes). But, everything I do is a sign of something, and in this case, even my face routine was a sign that I wanted to take up as little space as possible. I didn’t even want to take time to properly care for my face- let alone anything else. The less time between me and sleep and sleep and doing things- the better. Even in the past when I did get fancy products or whatever- the goal was to use as little as possible- as if saving the product came before how it was supposed to benefit me. Everything else came before taking care of myself- time, energy, money, resourcefulness, sleep, work, others. 

So, oddly enough it was my nightly face routine that made me realize perhaps the biggest thing of 2020- I let others treat me how I treated myself. Similar to “love your neighbor as yourself”, “treat others the way you want to be treated” has a condition that involves how you feel about you, how you treat you. And I don’t treat myself very well sometimes. It’s not that I hate myself or I don’t think I have value- just sometimes I’m more interested in what I can do than who I am. More interested in myself as a human doing than a human being. As if I expect myself to just perform with no regard for the performer themselves.

There’s still so much I have to learn in this space, in this relationship between myself and me. I got a new fancy skincare routine and it’s unexpectedly nice to have a set time and rhythm to take care of myself. One of my biggest goals for this year is learning how to be my own boss- in all the senses because even though I believe the Lord is my shepherd, I’m still trying to be one of the less stupid sheep. But I’m learning mostly how to love myself, how to care for myself, and how to treat myself so that I can love both myself and others in the best way. In healthy, whole, and intelligent ways.

As always, thanks for reading! My weekly uploads will be a bit all over: deeper thoughts like this, reviews, listicles, short articles, or literary essays, but in a world full of information- I’m always grateful for the attention you give my words. Until next week!