I often reject myself – how I am feeling, what I am wanting, my tummy, my breasts, my eyes, my impatience, the kink in my neck, the rods in my back. I am constantly working to accept these things, and then I wind up rejecting them again. Why is it so difficult? Why is rejection my go-to, my primary way of being?
There is safety in self-rejection – if I reject myself first, I am “protected” from the rejection of others, because I’m already there, and I can’t be knocked down any further. The instinct to stay in this rejected “safe” space is so strong, that accepting my parts, all of me, is so fucking difficult. It sounds easy though. And I am doing it, slowly. I bought a bikini two years ago, and I have been sharing my feelings more openly, particularly the ones I don’t want to feel.