The great irony is that probably the best way to fix yourself is to stop fixing things. You’re not broken. I’m not broken. Sure, I can improve. Of course I can. I hope I can. But seeking to refine yourself is different than seeing yourself as inherently flawed.
Somewhere along the lines, my daughter will doubt that she is beautiful. Despite hearing it from the moment she was born, despite it being truth, she will pinch her waist, cringe at her complexion, wish herself anything but.
But even those of us who disdain superficial, misplaced values can’t help sometimes but feel a twinge of comparison over popularity and perfect appearance. Human nature is a fickle, fickle thing – foraging for worth and happiness in ways that can never provide it.
I’ve been thinking lately about what being ok with myself means. I have a very smart friend who says, ‘good self esteem isn’t the opposite of bad self esteem, self acceptance is the opposite of bad self esteem’ or something close to that. I like that definition. Self acceptance means being able to see ourselves realistically and be ok with it. Not just our external selves, but also our internal selves. Because it’s our internal selves that really make or break our lives.