Dear Me

Have you ever wondered why it’s so difficult to love ourselves unconditionally? Why can’t we be our biggest cheerleaders? I’ve been working on unconditional love for myself for 10 years now, and still, to this day, I struggle with it. Everyone has their own story that helps explain why we are the way we are. I want to share mine.

Growing up, I was taught right from wrong through religion. Everything was black and white, with little to no room for authenticity or developing my own self. I was told what to say, what to do, what to wear, how to act, and what to believe. It’s difficult to form your own opinions and understand your real likes and dislikes when you are taught that anything contrary to doctrine is wrong. Not everyone growing up in a high-demand religion experiences this, but for me — a perfectionist — I took everything literally. If I even thought something contrary to what was taught in Sunday School, I chastised myself. I lived in an internal world of my own, drowning in shame, guilt, and the constant effort to be perfect.

Fast forward to me at 35, when I discovered that maybe some of the things I had believed so fully up to that point weren’t necessarily true. One discovery led to another, then another, until I had completely deconstructed the beliefs I had meticulously built for decades.

That’s where my self-love story began.

When you completely take apart the core values you’ve used to live your life as a full-grown adult, you’re left with an empty vessel to refill.

Seems easy.

It’s not.

We are worthy just because we exist.

But becoming a mother of three daughters helped me understand something I had never fully understood about myself: humans have inherent value. We are worthy just because we exist. Not because we memorized 25 scriptures, abstained from drinking coffee, or didn’t wear tank tops. Just because we are living, breathing people who were born.

That’s it.

That is what gives us value.

Having daughters gave me the opportunity to teach them to love themselves no matter what they do, say, or wear. Even while I was still believing in the church, I knew without a doubt that they were worthy of that unconditional love. Eventually, I had to ask myself why I wasn’t worthy of it too.

One of the first things I did to start loving myself was to start loving my body. Even outside of religion women are taught to hate their bodies. And I was tired of it. I started with a little practice I call mirror compliments. Every time I looked in a mirror, I forced myself to compliment one thing about myself. It was so hard at first. I was literally telling myself that one section of my hair was pretty. But once it became a habit, it became easier. Eventually, I even started loving the parts of myself I had always hated. I learned to love my body, and that became a huge part of learning to fully love myself.

There was one point in my journey that really opened me up to loving every part of me. It was truly life-changing.

During a particularly hard winter after my divorce, I was deep into researching different ways to love myself. One night, I was crying uncontrollably on the couch. I felt defeated, unloved, and lonely. I came across a practice that I now call “the lineup.” You imagine various versions of yourself and line them up in a row. You approach each one, hug them, and thank them for getting you through that part of your life. So I lined up all of me and started the practice.

Age 3: I love you, Krista. You are perfect just the way you are. Thank you for just being a kid and being able to handle the chaos of early life.

Age 8: Thank you, Krista, for getting through the challenges of childhood and not feeling heard.

Age 16: Thank you, Krista, for being so diligent in being the best version you thought you had to be to be loved. I love you no matter what.

Age 25: Thank you, Krista, for getting through some of the hardest moments of motherhood. I’m so proud of you.

Age 35: Thank you, Krista, for being so brave and for loving yourself enough to deconstruct all that you ever knew. Because of you, I am who I am today.

Age 42: Thank you, Krista, for choosing you. I know it was hard, but it was imperative. I love you.

There’s something about acknowledging what you’ve done — and realizing you couldn’t have gotten here without every version of yourself — that changes the way you see your own story. For so long, I could look backward and see all the ways I had struggled. The lineup made me look backward and see the person who had gotten me through every single one of them.

Me.

It helped me see myself as more than someone who had suffered through life. I could finally see the girl, teenager, and woman who had carried me through it — someone incredible, brave, accomplished, and worthy of love. And maybe that’s what self-love really is. Not believing every version of yourself was perfect, but learning to love every version of yourself anyway.