Last night I dreamt that I had long, beautiful blonde hair and violet-blue eyes. My limbs were lithe and my skin flawless. When I woke up, I couldn’t help but feel disappointed at my choppy mousy mop, my sallow complexion, and the ugly mottled redness across my arms. It doesn’t help that my face has grown fatter from weeks of eating like crap, mostly thanks to the discovery of Door Dash and Way Better Chips. It also doesn’t help that my hat caused stinging break-outs after my hike.
I couldn’t look myself in the eyes this morning.
This means I’m overdue for some serious, take-no-prisoners self-care.
Now I’m not talking about the bullshit self-care in magazines centered on consumption. This isn’t the time for bath bombs or a pedi. Rather, this is the time for treating myself like a person I want to thrive, which means I need to parent my inner child rather than spoiling her. This means taking vitamins again. It means foam-rolling and stretching before and after work-outs and going to the chiro more regularly. It means buying bulk iced coffee so I’m not tempted to stop at the gas station for caffeine (and chips!), deep-cleaning my make-up brushes so the allergens don’t spread, and gently tending to the small scrapes and bruises I’ve earned while at work in the yard. It means balancing my budget so I don’t feel stressed and uncertain every time I pull out my card.
It also means having an honest conversation with myself about the current state of my self-care, which right now is going something like this…
Am I hydrating properly?
No, I am not.
Am I eating sufficient protein?
No, I am not.
Am I treating exercise like a joyful privilege rather than a punishment for imperfection?
… No, goddamnit. I totally am not.
I think you get the point.
So that’s what’s on my mind right now. I don’t need reassurance that I’m pretty or a badass or anything like that, because appearance has nothing to do with this mood. This mood is about unkindness. It’s about what grows when we sow a hundred little seeds of laziness and disrespect toward the self.
Slowly (because doing it all once never works) I’m going to seriously improve my self-care, starting with something as simple as a glass of water and the removal of all of my make-up as soon as I get home. I need to let my skin breathe again, I think.
And also my half-loved spirit.