Once upon a time there was a girl, who felt kind of like a nerd and a jock, with a bit of band geek thrown in. In truth, she was none of these, but knowing not a thing about the detriment of labeling, she found herself compelled to lock herself in a very tiny box, boldly labeled “Who Alexa is”. Staying in the box felt strangely safe and comfortable and stepping outside of it seemed to always coincide with some kind of judgement or criticism from her world – which meant that staying in there seemed a far easier option. And as she grew up, and simultaneously grew out of those old identities and role, her box became stifling and beyond annoying. And it grew a little, just enough for her to feel like she could deal, but it still pretty much sucked. Inside the box was getting quite nasty, or perhaps it always had been – smelly and dark and full of terrible little voices – shame was their game and they were pros. It was time to get the heck out.
Fast forward to the future and legs and love. Have I always loved the skin I’m in? Hell no. I remember in grade 8, thinking the boy laughing down the hall was laughing at my huge, impossible-to-ignore nose. I remember wanting to blend into the wall through high school, always feeling out of place and in the way, judgmental of my body and my self and what I perceived to be their countless faults, hating it all. Measuring it all up to a made-up bar of what was sexy and perfect and desired. As women, I wonder if there is a single one of us that escapes unscathed by inner judgement and criticism – I’m going to say no. There is a whole lot of self-hatred happening – and most of it you would never suspect…
Which brings us back to my legs. The photo at the bottom of this article is one that makes me a little nauseous inside to even think of showing it to anyone but my nearest and dearest. It’s sexy, exposing, definitely not that nerdy, jocky girl I thought I was way back when. This photo pulverizes that box I’d put myself in and kept myself in – it forces me to sit up and take notice. And hopefully it does the same for you. Because, here’s the big, crazy important point of all of this. You, my lovelies, in reality (and what you see in the mirror is fairly far from reality), are a whole different ball of wax from what you imagine yourself to be.
I’m not just stroking your ego here. I want you to realize that you are not seeing what is really up. Why? Because you have spent your life gathering filters that change how you perceive. And here lies the sure path to self-love…
Because self-love doesn’t find you when you lose that 20lbs or when you finally reach that goal you’ve been trying so long and hard to achieve. It doesn’t magically appear the moment you find the perfect dress or the perfect man.
Self-love is all about perception – how you see yourself. Essentially, you are seeing the world through a plethora of filters, made up of beliefs and fears and experiences, and each of these filters is changing the way you see your world and yourself. Yes, it is entirely possible, that you do indeed have some fairly gross-coloured lenses going on.
Let me give you a few examples of some slightly self-love limiting perceptions I was carting around…
“You have to be perfect to be loved” (and the stipulation that, by the way, perfect is absolutely unachievable ever by anyone).
“I am ugly/awkward/clumsy/annoying/ditzy/irresponsible/a screw-up”
“I can’t do anything right”
“Showing off or talking nicely to myself is vain”
“Approval is love and I get approval by acting like a good girl”
Perhaps you can relate? Perhaps you have a few doozies of your own.
And when we look at our world and ourselves through these rather nasty lenses two things can happen. First, we can’t help but see them in ourselves. And second, they seem to be re-affirmed all over the place – as if to try to prove their truth. And it often does the trick – we become entrenched in the overarching belief that we are somehow at fault/not enough/irretrievably screwed up in a multitude of ways.
So how do we change our perception?
You need to go deep – to the source. This is just one of the reasons I love energy medicine – it is just so good at getting in there, into that sometimes vicious subconscious of ours and changing things on a deep and lasting level. And it’s also the reason I do my All Lit up Intensives with photographer Devon Gillott – there is an epidemic of women who can’t stand looking at themselves in the mirror and I am not alone in thinking that needs to stop yesterday.
And you need to do the work. You need to bring the knowing of your beauty and preciousness into your everyday – you need to remember and keep remembering that beauty, especially when the voices rise up. Fully owning this essential truth, that you are beautiful inside and outside and all the way through, is a journey all your own.
Remember, beauty is also all about your perception – challenge yourself here – expand your possibilities for what beauty actually is (because sometimes it looks like you falling apart and feeling crazy vulnerable, sometimes it looks so snotty and messy and exposed, and sometimes it looks like a superstar).
For me, self love came on slowly, like a quiet, subtle love affair that sneaks up on your oh-so-quietly and then all of a sudden you’re in it and turning back is no longer an option. In facing myself, staring deeply into my eyes and staying there despite the terrible discomfort. In the courage to stand up for me, to stand strong in my refusal to be bullied and shamed by my inner voices, to face them down and see what they really were – reflections of my fear and ready to be released.
Self-love comes in the moments when there are no distractions and no escape and you just stay. It comes in the inward journey, in self-respect and the willingness to accept and embrace what your deepest self desires, no matter what the cost. It comes in the refusal to be dulled down, quieted or lessened and the knowledge, ever growing, that you, are exactly who you need to be right here in this moment, no bending over backwards or walking on eggshells required.
And so, without further ado, I give you some damn sexy legs. My legs. Attached to the rest of who I am. No labels, no cover-up or dulling these babies down. No shame, because it has no place in my world – I have no desire to moderate my actions and motivate my achievements by feeling crappy about myself. Just rocking it in the way my truest nature wants to. These legs have walked me through my life for 34 years and they have done a fine job so far – truly can’t wait to see where they take me next. And it feels awesome to honour them and their beauty. Thank you Devon Gillott for being a conduit and giving me permission to be my full-on sassy self.
Your walk with self-love will more than likely be an unconventional journey, with countless moments of weirdness as you push up against what you have done before and then, in a flash of courage and understanding, go beyond. Whatever it is for you, there is nothing I wish more than for you to see your brilliance and your beauty in all parts of you. Not through changing and making it another way, but through a deep and unwinding embrace of how very perfect you are right here in the moment.
After all, those legs of yours, and all the rest of the countless trillion cells of you, got you to this very moment, reading this very post and whispering to yourself – “I am a sexy, powerful, mind-blowing miracle”. Because, that, my dear friends, is exactly what you are.
Awesome. Thank you