I’m on a mission of self-discover this year it seems.
One of the themes that appeares in many of my previous posts is learning to love myself for who I am. Acceptance of myself doesn’t come easy for me. I’ve had years of practice where I was constantly and consistently attempting to change who I was to fit in to the society around me. It led to repeated frustration and heartache.
Embracing who I truly am has been a struggle.
Would people like me still?
Should I care?
Would others understand why I’m doing what I do?
Would they care?
How do I go about loving myself? This is a hard question to ask myself. Some days it is easy – others, it’s a struggle.
I failed to love myself this weekend.
Hun and I went camping with family. Hun and I were the first to arrive at camp – the first for us! We’re usually the last – setting up camp in the dark, tired and frustrated from the day. We began setting up and my sinuses rebelled against the Texas bane of existence – mountain cedar. I sneezed, I dripped, I hacked, and I coughed – non-stop.
Family showed up – I was quickly nick-named Rudolph. And then they saw how miserable I was and the teasing stopped. I was offered and took so many different allergy medications that I was beginning to worry that I might over-dose on them. I was in bed by 8pm – hours earlier than anyone else.
I woke the next morning, feeling the same as the night before. More medicine and right back to bed. When I finally awoke, I felt better, but wanted nothing to do with camping any longer – and I love camping!
Hun took one look at me and asked, in front of everyone, “Do you want to go home?”
I shook my head no, “I’ll be fine.”
The rest of the weekend was just as miserable, if not worse.
So why did I not say what was in my heart – “YES! I want to go home!!” Hun asked me that later – and I finally admitted why I said no – because I wouldn’t have been able to help pack up – not like I usually do. Because everyone else would have felt compelled to help Hun while I just sat there, trying not to sneeze and wheeze. NONE of my family would have minded. They knew how miserable I was. They know I’m the first to help, whenever I can.
But in my head, I couldn’t accept their help.
I don’t know why and I’m trying to figure it out.
I received a text this morning from one of my cousins that went camping with us. They’ve planned another campout and informed me of the plan.
Even though I had been sick, I heard about some others (not family), that might be attending.
There’s some tension there between me and another.
I texted back that I would have to think about the invite, a vague why I was hesitating, and that I would get back with her. She was surprise to hear of my hesitation, was unaware of the tension, but gracious in her answer.
So I have to ask myself – why am I hesitating?
Am I avoiding making myself uncomfortable or am I trying to love myself enough to avoid the pain this other person has already caused me?
Should I confront the problem or avoid it?
What will bring me the most peace?
I don’t know. And it’s maddening to be in this position for me.