Thursday, January 25, 2018

How I Learned to Love Myself and Still Got Brutally Owned By the Final Exam, Somehow

Learning to love myself was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.

But despite having learned and studied really hard, I still got fucking OWNED by the final exam for some reason! 
Maybe it was because I skipped office hours and the test wasn’t graded on a curve, but somehow this class made me its bitch.

Well, it wasn’t a class exactly.

It was more of an online independent study for zero credit. At least it was free. That is, if you don’t count all the "study aids" I bought. Like self-help books by Brene Brown and Thich Nhat Hanh, yoga mats, contouring sticks (because “I’M NOT TOO POOR TO CONTOUR!”), wrinkle creams, therapy, nutrition shakes, well-fitting bras, Crest White Strips™ supes hawt dresses to make me look thicc AF but not too thicc AF, and Spotify Premium.

I tried to follow the six steps of inner bonding, which a lady named Margaret Paul said I should take in order to actually learn how to love myself. 

If I really think about it, I guess here’s how I failed at loving myself:

1. “Be willing to feel pain and take responsibility for your feelings”: I’m not unwilling to feel pain, so that wasn’t the problem. I mean, I attack my face several times a day with a very sharp tweezers just to make sure I’m still alive. Also, I MIGHT have gently placed a Tide Pod between my teeth, to see how hard I would need to bite down on it for detergent to come out. In theory. But it’s not fair to ask me to take responsibility for my feelings when all of my feelings are so clearly attributable to the Instagram and Facebook accounts of dudes whose peens I've seen IRL and who I'm still “friends” with for some reason. I can’t feel pain AND take responsibility for my feelings, FFS! PICK A LANE!

2. “Move into the intent to learn”:
If by “intent to learn” they mean “my kids’ tree house” then I definitely moved into the intent to learn. That tree house is actually a great place to do some thinking and learning, and also get low key stoned. Blazing up in your kids’ tree house by yourself while crying is GOALS AF. So this couldn’t have been the fuck-up.

3. “Learn about your false beliefs”: UGH. This one was SO hard. What even IS real anymore anyway, and what is FAKE NEWS? Por ejemplo: is the earth really flat, or are flat-earthers the first shots fired over the bow in a terminal world war of total and complete idiocy? Is Nicki Minaj the baddest bitch ever born? Am I just a “career-obsessed banshee” and a “nail-biting, manophobic, hell-bent feminist she-devil” who “shriek[s] from the tops of a thousand tall buildings [I] think [I]could have leaped over in a single bound had men not been suppressing” me? Is the whole world really as fucked as it seems, or does everyone feel this way eventually? IS EVERYTHING I KNOW JUST A LIE AND ALL THE LIARS SHOULD GO CHOKE ON A BAGGA DICKS? Come to think of it maybe this was where I failed.

4. “Dialogue with your higher self”:
This could not have been where I flunked loving myself, because as noted above I do all my best self-dialogue when I’m high in a tree, literally and figuratively. Orange Whiteout, Gorilla Glue, Maui Wowie, Matanuska Thunderfuck, Nagoon Indica-Sativa hybrid, what-have you. The only beef I have with this step is that talking to yourself is technically a monologue, but, whatevs. Same same.

5. “Take the loving action learned in step four”: It’s anyone’s guess what this was. It could have been “eat a Costco jar of Nutella with a serving spoon,” or “write an ill-advised email to your friend that did that mean thing to you on the Jersey Shore that one time.” It could just as easily have been “dump the full contents of the refrigerator straight into the compost bucket," or perhaps “burn out the batteries on your Hitachi Magic Wand” (pro-tip: do not Google: NSFW) because you're bored and have insomnia.” This one's kind of a black box TBH.

6. “Evaluate your action”: Okay hold up. Now that I’m doing the post-mortem, I think THIS is where self love met epic fail. I forgot to “check in” to see if my “pain, anger, and shame are getting healed.” They don’t seem to be, at least not through any of the aforementioned methods? So now I guess I have to “go back through the steps until I discover the truth and loving actions that bring [me] peace, joy, and a deep sense of intrinsic worth?"

Woof. Kudes to this Margaret Paul woman for boring me into self-actualization.

The bottom line is that I am basically the little blue-haired Playmobil guy falling behind this British Soldier of Self-Love that ended up in my iCloud photostream. 

I'm not sure how it got there, but all in all, it’s pretty easy to see how I got pwned in Loving Myself 101.




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