Dear Loved Me: I Am Somebody Worth Loving

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Have you ever sat down and thought about your measurements of what love looks like?

How do you feel love?

How do you receive love?

I oftentimes think that I know what love is.

That I can explain how I feel it and how I receive it.

And yet there are plenty that I’ve come across that would say I don’t articulate it very well.

Today I was sitting here and I was weighing pros and cons in my head of what love looks like to me.

And I’ve come to realize that for me?

It’s not these grand big events.

It’s in the small things.

And If You Want, We Can Go Together

So I have been wanting to go to the gym.

I had been looking into gyms to go to since I’ve gotten to California.

And a friend said:

“Hey, sign up for this gym.”

Okay.

Well, I can do that.

I was looking for gyms in both areas.

And he said:

“Well, if you sign up for this gym, you’ll get just that.”

“Plus, you know, the packages that you get.”

And I said:

“Yeah, I’ve had them before.”

“I could do that.”

And then my friend said:

“And if you want, we can go together.”

And that instantly made the package better.

Because I don’t necessarily mind going to the gym.

I do have a hard time going by myself.

So:

Okay.

Thanks for thinking of me.

But it wasn’t just the thought of me.

It was helping me to get a discounted price on it because they could.

We Used to Fall Asleep to the Sound of Each Other

And then it was something that seems so innocuous.

The other night I asked my husband to stay on the phone.

Or to talk.

To be on the phone.

And he made the comment that he didn’t want to stay on the phone if we weren’t talking.

Fair.

Not a requirement.

And so I could tell he wanted to get off.

And so we got off.

But I can’t help but remember that when we first started dating, we did it all the time.

We constantly stayed on the phone with each other.

We would fall asleep to the sound of each other.

And that always meant something to me.

It was always important to me.

I loved that he wanted to fall asleep with me.

And so that has always been monumental to me.

And the fact that he has told me recently, including today:

That is not who he is.

Well, when did that switch up?

When did you become a person who didn’t do that?

That’s where we started.

What I Hear Is He Had to Be Drunk

And today when I asked that question, it was:

“Well, I was drinking back then.”

And I try not to take those words to heart.

Because while what he is saying is the reason he was able to do so was because he was drinking, what I hear is:

He had to be drunk to do something with me.

Wow.

Drunk in order to do something sweet with me.

And so again, I didn’t let it sit and weigh on me.

At first I got a little sad.

And a little teary-eyed.

And I felt like I really needed a hug or a coffee.

That’s what I told my friend.

“I need a hug or coffee.”

And my friend laughed at me like:

“Wow, those are in the same category?”

Well, I’m not a touchy-feely kind of person.

So I don’t want a hug from everybody.

But I can take a coffee.

And we laughed and we joked about that.

And I continued on with my day.

Our House Is Always Open for Her

Well, my 18-year-old was just like:

“Can I come home?”

And my husband’s like:

“We have a room for you.”

And I knew that the conversation had more nuance to it.

It’s not that my 18-year-old just wants to come home.

My 18-year-old has a family she’s supposed to be going to.

And now all of a sudden that’s changed.

So while I open my arms wide for her and my home wide for her, I also have to ask:

What happened?

Because I knew that’s something she wanted.

It didn’t necessarily mean that I was turning her down.

But it did mean that I wanted to know what had changed.

Because she’s been really happy with her family relationship dynamic recently.

So I’m talking to her about that.

And I just let her know that our house is always open for her.

That she’s always got a home.

Sounds Like I’m Being Moved Out

And then I messaged my husband and said:

“Sounds like I’m being moved out.”

“Moved out where?”

“Well, I presume you just gave up my office.”

“Well yeah, that’s the room I gave her.”

Okay.

And so I stepped back from that conversation because I had to process a little bit.

Because again:

What I felt.

What I heard.

Was not the same thing as what he said.

Okay.

So then I asked:

“If that’s my office, where does my stuff go?”

“Where do we move my things?”

And his response was he would move his office to the garage.

Because remember, we would switch.

Okay.

So then:

“Are you gonna move your stuff out there now?”

“Well no, when everybody gets here.”

So when you say:

“When everybody gets there.”

Does that mean when I get back?

“Well yeah.”

So where does my stuff go in the meantime?

For Me, It Felt Like You Could Be Erased

“We have a bunch of shit.”

“It can go anywhere.”

“The rest of the shit that we have.”

Huh.

And again, I don’t think what he was trying to do was demean my things.

That means something to me.

I think for him that’s just his thought process, right?

None of that stuff is arbitrarily important.

It just goes along with all the other stuff we have in our house.

And for me, it felt like:

You could be erased.

You could be gotten rid of.

We’ll just put you in a corner somewhere and erase it.

So then it really made me start thinking about this whole idea of love.

Today I Had Someone Love Me Enough to Sit on the Phone With Me

And today I had someone love me enough to sit on the phone with me for an hour and a half.

And we didn’t talk.

We just...

We were there.

When we had something to say, we would say something to each other.

But other than that, they listened to me work.

I listened to them work.

And we just existed.

We coexisted with each other.

And I think it is telling on how much that meant to me.

Because when I first saw my phone light up with the call?

I instantly smiled.

Mind you, I was already on a phone call when I received that call with another friend who was willing to sit there and just be.

I’ve Got This Dedicated Time for You

The quality time that’s implanted in that means the world to me.

I think largely in part because I didn’t really get to have that opportunity to sit and be with my parents.

That’s not a knock on them.

It’s just:

I’m one of seven.

It’s a lot of time.

Nobody has time for that.

So it’s nice to have someone say:

“Hey.”

“I’ve got this dedicated time for you.”

“And I just want to sit with you in it.”

And I recognize that again, they’re still doing something.

Playing a video game.

Working.

Talking to others.

But at the end of what they’re doing there?

They’re still choosing me.

It felt good.

I Felt Seen, I Felt Heard, I Felt Loved

I think that’s exactly the sentiment I felt when my sister and my mom and my brother took me out for my birthday dinner.

It was:

I felt seen.

I felt heard.

I felt loved.

Because the response was:

“No.”

“You’re not paying for your own birthday dinner.”

“We got this.”

Really?

I was all set to pay for myself and help pay for everybody else at the table.

“No.”

“It’s your birthday.”

“We’re doing this.”

It wasn’t even that it was an expensive meal.

We went to Red Lobster.

So that’s not the most fancy place, right?

Not the cheapest.

Not fancy by any stretch of the imagination.

But it’s this idea that somebody wants to put that effort into my relationship with me.

I mean that much.

Indeed, I Am Loved

And sometimes I have a hard time comprehending:

Indeed, I am loved.

I am wanted.

I’m cared for.

I’m special.

I was looking back on some videos that I had posted recently.

And someone commented that I was beautiful.

And it felt good.

Today I was drinking water.

And I lotioned myself.

And if you know me, you know that those are huge things.

I hate drinking water.

And I hate putting lotion on myself.

Something about the feel of it.

And so I told my friends today:

“You want to hear something you should be proud of me for?”

And they said:

“Of course.”

And so I told them.

And like:

“That’s something you should be proud of.”

I Just Need the External Validation

And I said:

“It’s not that I’m not proud of it.”

“I just need the external validation.”

Someone’s proud that I did something.

But my friend was right.

Why?

You should be proud that you accomplished this thing that you’re doing for yourself.

You should be proud you signed up for the gym because you wanted to change the way that you look.

You should be proud that you’re drinking water because you decided you want to be healthier.

I am so keen to build my self-esteem.

To build my worth based off of what someone else sees.

What somebody else says about me.

And that’s not how self-esteem works.

It’s in the word.

It’s about self.

I Am Doing Things to Make Myself Proud

So I sat here and I thought about it.

And while I hate to admit it?

He was right.

And I said:

Yeah.

You know?

I am doing things to make myself proud.

I did drink water today.

Didn’t hate it.

Actually enjoyed it more than I thought I would.

I didn’t mind lotioning myself up.

I felt good.

I felt pretty.

I felt like my skin felt really good.

And it looked really nice.

I had conversations today with people who want to sit down and have conversations with me.

Or just be in the same place with me.

I talked to my kids.

I’m far away from them.

I can’t just go pick them up.

Or hang out with them.

Or make them laugh the way that I’d love to.

And the way that I would do so if I was in person.

But they still know that they can reach out to me.

They still do so.

And tell me that they love me.

And they miss me.

And they care.

I Have Built Up 43 Years of Convincing Myself I Don’t Matter

I have built up 43 years of convincing myself I don’t matter unless I do something for somebody else.

Unless I am killing myself to make someone else happy.

And in this last week?

I have loved me enough to say:

I can do it myself.

So I drank the water.

I planned the meals.

I researched the gyms.

I researched the meal plans.

I made plans that say:

Hey.

You’re loved.

And you can take care of yourself.

And that felt good.

Do I Love Me? Do I Care About Me?

It felt nice to not only be loved on by someone else.

But to be loved on from myself.

And I think oftentimes I miss that.

Oftentimes I’m so stuck on whether somebody else loves me or cares about me that I forget:

In the end, my opinion matters more than theirs.

Do I love me?

Do I care about me?

And I do.

I’m not always perfect.

I’m not always what I want to be.

I don’t always say the things I want to say the way that I want to say them.

But I’m learning.

I am growing.

I am trying.

And I’m fighting to recognize that I am somebody worth loving.

My Bite of Pie

So my bite of pie today?

I did my laundry.

Even though it’s not Saturday.

And I talked to friends.

And I didn’t fret over something that I didn’t need to fret over.

Instead of sitting there beating myself up because something wasn’t said in the way that I would want it to be said, or I would have liked for it to be presented to me, I said:

You know what?

That doesn’t take away from how others feel about me.

That also doesn’t take away from how I feel about myself.

My bite of pie was choosing me.

And I know I’ve said it a lot lately.

And that’s because I’ve been so bad at doing it.

But it’s nice to say:

“Hey.”

“What you said was hurtful to me.”

“But I can reject that.”

“That’s how you feel.”

“That’s not how everybody feels.”

“And that’s not how I feel.”

So I want you to find the thing that you love about you most.

I want you to sit on it.

And I want you to think about it.

What makes you feel loved?

For me, it’s when people give me their time.

Their attention.

It’s when people choose to show up and listen to me.

It’s when I get online and I check to see how many views are on my videos and say:

Hey.

It meant something to somebody that they watched it.

I feel loved.

I love myself for doing it.

It’s not just that you guys are there and you’re supporting me.

It’s that:

Hey.

You loved yourself enough to put yourself out there and help others.

And that’s what you’re doing.

Find the thing that you love most about you.

Today is another page in the story.

It does not have to be perfect.

It just has to be written.

Before you close your journal tonight, ask yourself:

What was your bite of pie today?

Until tomorrow,

Love you loud.