A Letter to Myself

You've got some nerve, y'know that? Treating yourself the way you do. If anyone treated someone you love the way you treat yourself, you'd leap into action without a second thought. 

So why don't you do the same when you mistreat yourself? 

You look into the mirror and pinch the loose skin on your stomach, mentally saying that you're disgusting. But you know why you have that loose skin— because you were lucky enough to grow two beautiful little boys inside of your body. 

Those stretch marks are there for the same reason. Why would you think, even for a second, that they are anything short of beautiful? 

You pick at the scab on your knee— the one you got when you tripped over thin air on your way to the bathroom— and curse yourself for being so clumsy. After all, only an idiot could find a way to hurt themselves on nothing. What you forget to tell yourself, though, is that you stumbled because you were heartily laughing at the joke someone just told you, and moments of sheer joy like that are not to be underrated. 

You spend hours playing with your kids, watching the way their dimples add just a little more dimension to their sweet smiles, soaking in the moments you know you'll never get back. Your infant grins at you when you kiss his chubby cheeks, and your two-year-old decides to randomly tell you he loves you for no reason other than  because he wants to. And yet, the moment either one of them starts to cry, you tell yourself that you're failing as a mother. You accidentally lose your cool and yell at your kid, and suddenly, you make yourself out to be the devil simply because you made a mistake.

Why? 

You have the tiniest argument with your husband, and even though it's resolved before he leaves for work, you torture yourself to tears, thinking that he'll finally get sick of you and leave one of these days. But he's always shown that he's nothing but understanding and even-keeled; you just can't fathom why he would choose to love you, of all the women in the world. 

You've been lauded for your ability to write since middle school, and over a decade later, you still doubt yourself any time you try to put words on the page. Nobody will read your blog. Nobody wants to buy the books you'll eventually publish. Why would they? 

Pssst. Because you have talent. That's why. 

You spend the entire day writing, knitting, watching your favorite TV show, and just being with your family, and when you go to bed at night, the house is still a mess. You can hardly sleep because you're agonizing over how your friend's house is always pristine, and you spent the day enjoying yourself when you could have been cleaning. Since when was it a bad thing to take a break for a day? 

All of the bills are paid and there's plenty of food in your family's belly, but you still feel inadequate for not bringing in money to contribute to the household, even though most jobs you could find would barely cover the cost of childcare for two young kids. Staying home with your babies, not taking any moment for granted, is contributing to the household just as much as working a 9-5 would. 

After a particularly bad panic attack, where you couldn't breathe and legitimately thought you were dying, you consider texting your sister for support, but you tell yourself that she has other things to worry about, and burdening her with your stupid struggles is selfish. 

I'll tell you a secret; she loves you and you're not a burden.

Amidst all of your negativity, nay-saying, and self-doubt, remember to breathe. Don't underestimate the power of closing your eyes for a moment and placing your hand on your chest. That heartbeat in there? That's thumping for a reason.

I guess what it boils down to is this: You are enough. You are beautiful, even with your stretch marks and loose skin. You live with depression and anxiety, and it's okay to have days where you struggle. Nobody has it together 100% of the time. People love you for a reason, and your babies are no exception. Asking for help when you need it is okay. You're not a burden.

Go easy on yourself. You're doing the best you can. 

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