I’m an affectionate person, and I show my husband love in little ways each day.
It could be a gesture as simple as picking up a Sudoku puzzle book I know he’d like, getting his favorite bagel at Panera on my way home from the gym on Sundays, making a quick call on my lunch break to say hi, shooting him a little “thinking about you” e-mail, helping with the shoveling (or something else I loathe!), or holding on a little longer than usual in a hug.
… Or it could be the positive changes I’ve made regarding food/exercise over the past few months: making the split decision to come home after work instead of the gym so we have more time together (and going later when he’s studying, or resting), suggesting a bike ride together since we both love the outdoors, being flexible with where we decide to eat, blogging on my lunch break (when I can) so we have time together on his non-school nights …
Or it could be something as “momentous” (ok, for me) as having his family stay with us for long periods of time, or moving to Michigan for his job (and subsequently mine).
He knows my love is unconditional, and his love for me is truly the most selfless love I’ve ever experienced. We’ve been through so much together through the years, and though we don’t see eye to eye on every little thing, I know I can always count on him. For him, I am truly blessed.
But my love for myself? Ha. It’s certainly not every day I love myself … and my love for myself is often conditional, usually based on how I have treated (or tortured) my body.
I don’t mean to sound narcissistic or self-induglent here, but in spite of how much I might yap about myself/thoughts/feelings here on my blog, when push comes to shove, I don’t show love for myself.
When I chew-and-spit (like I have done a little of lately — albeit much less so than before!), that’s not loving myself.
When I over-exercise to make up for four days off (like I have done this past week), that’s not loving myself.
When I look in the mirror and poke at myself, that’s not loving myself.
When I mindlessly eat instead of feeling my feelings, that’s not loving myself.
And so in honor of Valentine’s Day — the cheesy holiday where you’re supposed to croon about the one you love … mine knows how much I love him, and I know how much he loves me. I don’t need a holiday to tell me that.
(Though if I’m being completely honest, I wouldn’t mind some dark chocolate and some time together in spite of his upcoming midterms next week!).
Anyway, I’d like to propose a challenge to myself: to continue to show my husband love every day, but also to show myself love.
I don’t think it’ll be an easy challenge. It goes with the whole “my body, my temple” mantra I spouted early this year … a mantra that I haven’t always lived up to.
But I want to. “To thine own self be true.”
Everyone says when you learn to love yourself (esp. if you’re already eating well and exercising), the weight will fall off. Well, I won’t make my March weight goal, but I can make it a goal to show myself a little love each day regardless.
Savoring a piece of chocolate.
Strength-training because it makes me feel powerful, not killing myself on the Precor.
Indulging in a bubble bath, or getting a pedicure.
Reading a new chick-lit book even though it’s mindless.
Complimenting myself on something — maybe it’s a good hair day?
I have faith I can, and will, do it. It’s just doesn’t come naturally to me — it’s natural to me to do nice things for others, but not always for myself. That’s about to change.
I put my heart into so many things I do, and right now, I need to be a little “selfish.” I’m pretty sure my hubby won’t mind; he doesn’t understand why I don’t love myself the way he does!!
I love you, LRH And MBH, I love you too. (Um, yeah, that’s me).
How about you? Sure, you show your significant other love each day, but how can you show yourself love, too?