A Path Called Me

Tag: self-love

  • Acceptance and Exclusion

    What I noticed when I became my priority was the ability to feel comfortable with being excluded—from a party, from a conversation, or from simply not being wanted or liked. It’s easy when I make the decision not to go somewhere or talk to somebody, but the other way around was tricky at times. There was this feeling inside telling me: they don’t want you there, they don’t like you, they think you are weird.

    That voice inside my head was chitchatting, and I had to learn, first of all, not to be bothered by not being involved and second, to let the chitchatting go on without attachment to those thoughts. Realizing that I am not my thoughts was another level of freedom. My thoughts can go on, but what was happening between my ears may or may not necessarily be the truth. A simple question—Is this thought really true?—was helpful. I stopped overthinking certain aspects and started to examine whether my thoughts were true.

    And even if they were true, how do they affect my life? I began to think about what I could change and what was in my power to do about whatever situation I was facing. So when I wasn’t invited to attend some event and my head was giving me a full-time movie, I had to stop and check within myself what was really happening. And all sorts of things appeared—many insecurities, many fears, and many doubts undermining my own worth. That was a way for me to learn more about myself.

    Asking questions about my feelings related to not being involved taught me that if I don’t want to feel a certain way, I have to change myself—not because I wanted to be included, but because I wanted to feel good about not being included. And consequently learn not to tie my self-worth to whether I’m liked. I think that’s one of the superpowers we can possess as humans.

    I still sometimes have moments when I start to feel sorry for myself when someone “accidentally” forgets about me, but it doesn’t take long to come back to myself and simply let things be. Because, first of all, not everyone has to like me. Second, someone’s “no” only opens the door to exploring more of life. And third, I believe that rejection is God’s protection. So I can only win by not being invited or involved.

    I have my own acceptance of situations and of myself, and that acceptance is the most important thing to me.

  • A Love Letter

    Dear Love,

    Where are you?

    I used to wonder that so often.
    Are you in my mother’s warm embrace?
    In the neighbor’s kind “Good morning”?
    Are you hidden in the soft light of a new day, or in the joyful smile of my daughter?


    Does the green grass carry you?

    Or perhaps you’re in the face of a stranger I passed in the park? 

    I searched for you everywhere.
    So many of us do—looking for love in people, in places, in fleeting moments.

    For me, life has always been about you.
    Because life without love? It felt like it lacked meaning.

    I searched for you in people first.
    And I did find you—within my family, my friends, and in the most beautiful form of all: the love I feel for my daughter.

    Then, I found you in places.
    In the lake where I grew up.
    In the city where I studied.
    In the place I now call home.

    And then, I began to find you in nature.

    In the rhythm of ocean waves.

    In the majesty of the mountains.

    In poppy-filled meadows.

    In the pear tree in my grandparents’ yard.

    I discovered you in the little things, too:
    In the taste of my mom’s brownies.

    In a squirrel’s darting across the park.

    And in countless other tiny, beautiful moments.

    But even though I saw you everywhere, something still felt incomplete.
    There was always a small ache. A sense that something essential was missing.

    Until one day, I looked into the mirror—into my own eyes—and finally saw what I’d been overlooking all along.

    You were there.
    You had been waiting.

    I had never thought to look for love within myself.
    Never paused to offer love to myself.

    And that changed everything.
    Because the most valuable love, the most healing, the most lasting—was the one I gave to me.

    So now I know:
    You are not just out there, scattered in the world.
    You are also right here, inside me.
    Always have been.
    Always will be.

    With all my heart,
    Me

  • Emotions

    Emotions are our internal compass. They let us know that something important is happening within us—a sign that deserves attention. We feel anger when things don’t go as planned. We feel joy when we’re with someone we love. These feelings are part of what makes us human.

    When I was a child, I often heard, “Stop crying,” when I was sad, or “Don’t be so angry,” when I was upset. Even when I was laughing with joy, I was told to quiet down. Over time, I learned not to feel—or at least, not to show it. I buried my emotions, hiding parts of myself to avoid judgment.

    Later in life, my relationships reflected those early lessons. I found myself in situations where I was told that my feelings were “too much” or “not real.” I was manipulated into believing my emotions were wrong, that my instincts couldn’t be trusted. I began judging myself more harshly than anyone else ever could. I thought I was a failure, that I didn’t know how to live. So, I became a perfectionist—on the outside, strong and confident; on the inside, lost and afraid.

    I didn’t trust myself, because I had been taught not to. I let others tell me who I should be—how to raise my child, what career to pursue, even what to eat. Looking back, it feels like I was living someone else’s life. And in truth, I was.

    But things began to change when I started to reconnect with my emotions—all of them. I began to allow myself to feel anger, frustration, sadness, joy, and happiness. Even when a voice inside tried to shut it down—“Why are you happy when your life is such a mess?”—I kept going.

    Now, I feel everything. Sometimes I understand why, and sometimes I don’t. And honestly, I’ve made peace with not always knowing. The meaning comes eventually. I’ve learned to let my emotions exist without judgment, and I’m learning how to manage them—especially when they show up at unexpected times.

    From everything I’ve had to learn to make my life better, this has been the hardest. But also the most powerful. It’s a lifelong practice—just like taking care of my body with workouts. Some days are strong, some are slow, but all of them are worth the effort. Especially when it comes to things—and people—we care about.

    My wish for myself is to become a master of emotional resilience. But even if I don’t reach that goal completely, I will still celebrate how far I’ve come. Because this work—this healing—is already changing my life.