My Own Worst Enemy | My Number 1 Fan

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It’s fascinating, isn’t it? How we can be lovely, kindhearted, generous people outwardly. But turn that spotlight inward, and many of us wage a mighty war with ourselves. 

Maybe it started in middle school, feeling awkward and ugly – all braces, prominent nose and elbows (or was that just me?). Or perhaps it was something that began earlier, from parents who were doing the best they could but unknowingly infused us with self-doubt and even an accidental dose of self-loathing.

When did it become the norm to be so merciless to ourselves? Why do we taught to focus on the bad in our physical bodies or mental faculties – the bit of cellulite or jiggle there, that weird forehead crease, the stupid thing we said in that meeting, or that premature email we sent -  instead of celebrating our inherent beauty and rich intelligence?

I ponder these things as I realize just how darn hard I am on myself these days. I consistently set myself up for failure, creating ambitious to-do lists, even when they're focused on inner wellness and health. 

And I wonder, what do I have to prove? WHO do I have to prove it to?

Maybe it’s because I have a brilliant immigrant father who equates success with outward accolades and financial health. But master's degree or Ph.D-pushing encouragement aside, I think that's more of an easy "out" than my true reality.

I feel that this hunger to be hard on myself roots deeper. Maybe it's been with me for lifetimes. But I am learning to recognize it a bit more, to understand it. Dare I say I'm even beginning to be more friendly toward that seemingly unquenchable ambitiousness, or at least begin to see it with a bit of humor.

And I'm doing so for this reason: I have me, myself, and I - warts and all- for this entire life. And that’s the only known constant. And if (and it’s a BIG if) I could somehow figure out how to be my own biggest fan, well wow. What a life that would be. Then nothing would hinge on how many folks attend a workshop or read my blog. I would get credit for the attempt, an inner "A for effort" felt in my bones not proven by Instagram likes.

How much fun would life be to live it as your own number-one-fan. What would you cheer yourself on about? What teeny tiny wins would you celebrate? How would you reward yourself for treating the body, mind, and spirit with exquisite kindness?

These are questions I plan to answer for myself in the coming days. And if they're interesting to you too, I encourage you to develop a relationship with that new inner voice that's always in your corner. Perhaps it has been asleep for a long time, but it's time to wake that fan up and give it one of those big foam #1 fingers. Let the cheering begin.  

For assistance in this profound transformation, I look forward to connecting over a session.

Garments by Kit + Ace