I woke up and rolled around in bed for a few minutes, stretching and untangling my limbs from the weight of bed covers, before reaching for my phone and scrolling Facebook. It’s a morning routine that happens more often than not. Nudged by Facebook memories – a memory portal that can either make you leap for joy or bring you to your knees, depending on what the day brings – I tuned into a post that I wrote four years ago. It read: I love you whole and I always will. Signed, self to self. Suddenly, a poised smile curved into my cheeks.
There was a time that I wasn’t just a stranger to myself, but I was also my own enemy. It’s hard to remember the girl I was before becoming the woman I am, remembering a bewildering existence that warped me into something manmade. Like most young girls, I was a product of cultural and religious coercion and patriarchal oppression. And like most young girls, my early learning years encompassed subjugation, manipulation, and abuse. Despite being raised by strong, rebellious, and independent women, women who were fundamentally progressive, fierce, and groundbreaking, it wasn’t enough of an army to tackle pious and societal tyranny.
My journey to self-love and self-acceptance was excruciating. It was an agonizing excursion that saw me rewiring all that I had come to know, while continually fighting for a revival that took decades to achieve. Despite confronting my despairing victimization, my journey to self-love was the most glamorous makeover that I’ve ever had and it’s a revolutionizing transformation that I encourage all women to undertake. It’s the greatest thing you will ever do for yourself.
My turning point happened in 2013 when I turned 31 years old. By then, I was a sophisticated, cultured, and educated professional, holding two Degrees and a Masters in my name. I had a successful career as a designer and conceptual artist in the fashion industry, before becoming a curator of an art gallery. I traveled the world, adventurously and boldly, and was considered a career-driven maven; climbing steep ladders and achieving the aspirations that were firmly in my gaze. I was happy-go-lucky with a social life that reflected a professional living and working in a prominent city. Oh, and I already knew that I didn’t want children. Nor was I interested in marriage. I had it all.
…Except I didn’t. Behind the gilded theatre screen, where red velvet ropes would close and I’d be released from my acting duties, there remained a desperately sad woman. I was exhausted by fighting for my place in the world, exhausted by justifying my lifestyle, and exhausted by fighting the all-encompassing patriarchal system, designed to hurt, hinder, and oppress women. I was depleted. I was altogether consumed by the accusations that I wasn’t worthy because I dared to oppose the heteronormative mandate of being a married homemaker with several kids hung from my arms and hips. Submission is advised and not negotiable.
I was actively bullied by society. Whether it was because of my protest at not advancing in my career beyond the point that women “were allowed” to reach, or whether it was because I didn’t look European enough to be considered beautiful, and therefore was a beasty assault on society’s eyes; or whether it was because I was considered far too opinionated, too educated, and enjoyed theorizing too much; or indeed, whether it was because I was born into the rainbow brigade, which is an apparent violation to patriarchism; or whether it was because I dogmatically protested the sexualization of young girls, the abuse and inequalities of women, and the patriarchy itself; I was simply measured as immoral. Whatever part of my life was being picked apart, the answer always seemed to read the same: I didn’t fit the blueprint of patriarchal orders, and that was a problem.
In 2013, a series of events happened that made me pause and take a recess from life. I fell in love, quit my job, permanently left my country for a new adventure abroad, and reassigned myself to a new life. For the first time ever, I realized that I deserved a better existence than the one I had given myself. But first, I had suitcases of trauma to unpack.
My suitcases were burdensome to carry and even more laborious to unload. It was a nightmare job. Nonetheless, taking my time with each caseload, I was finally liberated from the weight of such grueling baggage. Naturally, it wasn’t a task completed overnight; I took great strides forward before inserting strategic breaks of reassessment and healing, sometimes pausing for months at a time. Slowly, over several years, my brain was restructured; locked and fully fed on a diet of self-love, self-empowerment, self-appreciation, self-protection, self-advocacy, self-happiness, self-prioritization, and self-awe. No more was I emotionally conditioned to believe that I was abominable. Instead, I had fallen in love for a second time – this time with myself – shedding all the accumulated hate spoken to me throughout my life. I’ve embodied sincere happiness in this life-changing utopia.
Today, I'm all about myself. I’m pro-me, whether it’s dating myself, rewarding myself, or making my comfort a means of priority. I'm about flourishing in wellness; mentally, emotionally, physically, and financially. I live and breathe my authenticity, which cannot be influenced nor reversed by the say-so of misogynists, and I only accept alliances, friendships, and environments, that incorporate my ethos.
Society's corrupt agenda installs the narrative that women should be self-sacrificing; forcefully pushing the idea that self-advocacy is an amoral behavior steeped in selfishness. Well, it isn't. Don't feed into that patriarchal enslavement.
There is nothing selfish about loving yourself. There is nothing selfish about loving yourself enough to have healthy boundaries, conditions, and expectations for those you interact with. There is nothing selfish about loving yourself enough that you believe in yourself, honor yourself, respect yourself, and are empowered by your own decisions. There is nothing selfish about loving yourself enough that you set the rules for your life, that you live to the beat of your own drum, and that you're taking up as much or as little space as you desire. There is nothing selfish about living your life in full liberation.
Love yourself. It’s a journey you'll never regret, and it's the greatest reward you'll ever give yourself.
(Artwork by Agnieszka Szalabska)
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