realizing nothing’s wrong

I’m still working my way through the book Women Food and God, closing in on the end, and I’ve been hit with a couple things overall:

  1. I’ve been living like a victim.
  2. Nothing is actually wrong.

These two realizations tend to go hand in hand but I’m going to dwell more on the second.

Nothing is actually wrong. With me, that is.

Nothing is wrong with me.

I’ve been living in a head-space for so long – thinking of myself as flawed, broken, incomplete, a lesser person, lost – that I just accepted it as reality and never questioned the legitimacy of it.

Now, maybe to some degree, some of these things are true, specifically the flawed part (who on this earth isn’t flawed?), the incomplete part (who isn’t searching for something?), and the lost part (who hasn’t gotten off-track or turned around by life?). But to believe I’m really broken and a lesser person? Well, when I stop and really question this perspective that I’ve accepted as truth, I find it’s bullshit.

I am not broken or splintered. I may be maimed or injured but I am not damaged goods. Like so many things that break in life, it’s easy to consider them disposable and replaceable. But I am not replaceable and I have not reached a place yet where I am disposable – not until my last breath will I be disposable.

Injuries can be mended. My heartaches and wounds will mend themselves. I can heal, I can repair, I will survive, and eventually I reach a place where I once again thrive.

I am not irreparable. I am not doomed. I will thrive again.

The only way to heal is to accept and receive love and care; from others and from myself. No matter how maimed or injured I may be, I am still a whole person; a living, breathing, human being, and I will respond to love and care. I will respond to gentleness. I will respond to tenderness. Treating myself with contempt or disdain will not heal wounds.

There is nothing wrong with me. There is only something wrong with my view of myself.

That needs to change.


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