I’m Struggling to Love Myself

Hey, friend.

I’ve been struggling to love you as of late, and I’m sorry.

There’s been so much chaos and static noise in my brain. I tend to lose track of the things most important to me, and I wanted to clear some things up:

• I love you just the way you are. In this exact moment. With your crusty mascara from all of the tears. With your eye boogers from last night’s sleeplessness. With your fears and anxieties and rules for yourself. It is okay, Erika. You are good, just as you are. Every part of you is important, even the parts that are difficult and painful. Trauma, grief, habits. You would not be who you are without all of those states of being and colors of feeling. They make life rich. They make you empathetic. There’s something to be said for having a thin skin. You’re connected to the world. I love every single part of you, Erika. I invite all of you in.
• There is no certain way that you are supposed to be. There is no single answer. All of those templates, checklists, “self-improvement” articles, “should’s” and “should-not’s” — they are meant to measure commodities, not human beings. Let them go, for they were not made for you. You are beautifully whole, vulnerable, weak, complicated, fragile, and strong. You are multitudinous. Embrace your humanity.
• You are much stronger that you think. Do you remember when N tried to commit suicide, and you leaned into your family and friends? Do you remember the first week of university, and you cried for three weeks and asked for help? Do you remember when your first encounter with mental health was when you got diagnosed, and complete hell broke loose? You made it through, Erika. You made it through. And you learned new levels of vulnerability, how to love yourself, and your core values. I think its time for a trophy. Or a ceiling that rains down money. (And cookies, too). Trust yourself, Erika. You can handle a lot of things.

And finally, I know we are worried about whether this post is good enough or not. We wrote this between classes, so its a bit rushed. But Erika — you don’t have to write perfect things. I just need you to keep writing. And that is more than enough for me.

x Erika x