You are beautiful.
And you are always welcome here.
The words came out so easily as I crafted a post welcoming visitors to Being Krista. There was even alliteration and a nice cadence. But I didn’t have any more to say. I was tired, mentally spent, and I was having trouble believing in my own beauty and belonging. So much of my various interactions over the week told me I was an outsider. The onslaught of media and unrealistic cultural standards had left me feeling less than beautiful. And the tapes that play in my head, repeating messages like “you’re incompetent” and “no one really takes you seriously” were cranked to a 10.
But I kept writing. And as usually happens when I dig in and push my plow through all the bullshit, something good gets planted, eventually to emerge. Call it a creed (sans the dogma). Call it a nice little pep talk. Call it a poem. I like to call it truth.
I am beautiful.
I am loved.
Now, drink a cool glass of water and breathe.
Just sit in it. Hear it. Say it.
No, not in a whisper.
Full voice, bouncing against the walls,
waking up the kids.
Shout if you have to.
I am enough.
I am good.
Now, find a safe place and be still.
Don’t pose or arrange or reposition.
Don’t force or cut away or shrink.
Don’t suck in or puff up or cover over.
Don’t send yourself away.
No, child, embrace, hold close, love
All those unloved parts of you.
The shadow side, the underbelly,
the past, the present.
Because love is light
And only when light shines
into your darkness
can you ever be transformed.
Only then can you begin to recover
and reclaim what was lost in the dark.
Only then can you piece together your
I dare to love all that is unloved in me first.
Before I’ve got my shit together.
I lead with love.
I lead with compassion.
I lead with trust,
believing even if I can’t see it,
that as I care for this
that the dark will fade.
It will, child.
Little by little.
Like the first hint of light
to the east.