Liking yourself is not always easy—poem
Love yourself. Or if that’s too big an ask, at least try to like yourself. Sounds easy, right? But if it were that easy, why do so many singers, bloggers, therapists and well-meaning strangers earnestly instruct us how to do it, again and again and again?
The like of me
I want to like all of me not only the me in slippers now but the me in a weeping Honda in a different century I want to like all of me not just the sensible me but the dumb and desperate messed-up me It's easy to like the presentable me the on-to-it over-it into-it me who scrubs up well and brazenly dares to be nice and offer advice for free I want to forgive that me who did her best but did it wrong and now can only sing the song of a sorry sorry sorry she I want to start liking the me who wasn't me who was only a hint of the like of me I want to forgive the me of me kiss her better set her free carry her safe in a pocket and let her see a world that survived regardless even some who are able to love the grown-up me and would (if she'd only agree) let her sleep and let her be. ~ Rachel McAlpine, 30 November 2021 ~
Ever feel like that? That liking yourself is not that simple? If so, you are not alone. After living a few score decades, nearly everyone has some private regrets. Possibly even your dearest friends. We do change. Sometimes it seems, that’s not enough. But it is enough. I know that, really.
The Like of Me is an instant poem. That’s how they arrive, like a jingle or a song. Not fancy, not polished. But I share them anyway, in case these thoughts and feelings resonate with you.
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Fits right in with my most recent blog post about the challenge of self forgiveness….. Thank you for this post! I enjoy your posts!
Thank you, Josaia.
You hit a home run . . . simple and to the point, thank you, Claudia
Thank you, Claudia. With such topics, for me the fewer words the better.
Hi Rachel! Thanks for this instant poem. After getting the results of my health tests today and learning that the problems were of my own unknowing making, I do need to forgive the me of me. Thanks for showing the way! –Timi
Oh, what a story. Did you almost laugh through your tears? Yes, now more than ever you had better show that you plenty of kindness 🙂
Fabulous poem, Rachel. I especially identify with TRYING to still like me when I’m the dumb and desperate messed-up me!
That’s almost impossible. But maybe the other you could do it? Some day. Take a break…
Lovely poem Rachel which surely does resonate with me now aged 66 years and an official state pensioner ( received pension July 2021 oooooh). The weeping Honda in a different century seemed to hit home as I will be collecting my 21 year old civic sport model today from the garage after servicing & mot. Mechanic told me a lot of work to be done which may not be worth doing dependent on how important the car was to me. I ‘filled up’ at this point as the car had been a big part of my life and he said he understood. He later called to say ‘the car is worth saving’ which seems abit like me at the moment.
Hello Margaret of Smiling Coasts! That’s one thing I didn’t expect: that the weeping Honda (Civic) would mean so much to you. I’m impressed that you have one that’s 21 years old, and a mechanic who appreciates its value. Good job!
What a lovely poem, and how it resonated with me. Thank you for sharing it.
Thank you for letting me know this, Alison.
I prefer to forget that me… but she pops up from time to time to remind me.
Why is it never the other me that raises her head when I’m trying to get to sleep?
Yeah! Those other mes have a certain schedule. Next time I’m going to give mine a hug and put her in my pocket instead of beating her up.
Here’s to all the you’s and me’s of the world, whether appreciated, forgiven, or forgotten. We all matter!
That’s a lovely message for us all. Thank you Peter.