Sunshine for a Rainy Day

Not so many years ago, I found myself in a very dark state of mind. Circumstances had led me to a place where my perspective on my self-worth had grown terribly cloudy. I know many people have visited this same place, as the result of break-ups, or complicated familial relationships, or eating an entire box of pasta.

(Those last folks are my people. Fellow lovers of digestive science. “Can you actually fit a whole pound of cooked bow-ties in a human stomach?” “Yes! Yes, you can!” Just for the record, that doesn’t mean you SHOULD.)

When the mirror you are peering into gets so dirty that your vision of yourself starts to become distorted, it can be incredibly difficult to remember why you are worth loving — not least of all, why you are worth being loved by yourself. Though I tried to offer myself compassion and to remind myself what I brought to the world around me, dirty, warped mirror-me just kept smudging and smearing out each ray of sunshine.

I’ve never been particularly good at asking for what I need. Like many recovering co-dependents, I am EXCEPTIONAL at self-sacrificing to the point of total personal oblivion, but waving an arm when I am drowning never seems to occur to me.

There was more at stake this time around, though. I had started dating Boyfriend not long before, and deep into the dark days, I found myself questioning why he was with me — why this remarkable human being was choosing to spend all his time in my company. My lack of understanding on the matter was painful and confusing for him, and as a result, I was stirring up unnecessary trouble… trouble that I didn’t want to start, and didn’t know how to stop.

An idea finally occurred to me, but immediately terrified me. It was bold, and presumptuous. It relied on the possibility that I had redeeming qualities. It laid me bare to people I cared about and whose opinions meant very much to me. Quick, quick, before I had the chance to feel too humiliated or like I was asking way too much, I put idea into action.

I asked ten of my closest friends to tell me why I might be worth loving.

It was so hard to ask. I had to be so honest. It felt very embarrassing. I was so scared what they would think. But, I quickly spilled and presented my guts, told them that I was sad, that I was struggling mightily with self-worth, and that I could no longer see myself with clear eyes. Could they help?

Oh, god, did they ever help. They were so warm, so compassionate, so generous. They gave me more than I could have ever expected, more than I ever could have realized about myself on my own. They even told me the exercise was fun, and that they loved having a chance to tell me the things they liked about me. Can you imagine?

I hope you can. Then I hope you will experience it for real, yourself. I kept their answers; I keep them still, in a file on my computer, and when the mirror starts to fog, I read their messages again. I’ve just read them again tonight. They fill me with light and love and strength. They create an overwhelming sense of gratitude for these kind, gentle, helpful people, who helped me find my way out.

When there is not enough Windex in the world to wipe your way to a clear vision of yourself, I hope you will do the same, and reach out to those around you. Let them love the shit out of you. Then do the same for them.