Why I LOVE Myself (pt2)

This post is a direct continuation of my last one, Why a LoveD Myself. If you haven’t read that, please do so first by clicking here for some essential context, then come back and finish the story. Without further ado…

The car accident happened, and in the blink of an eye, my whole sense of worth melted away like butter in the sun. The pillars that had been the foundations upon which I had built my life had been swept out from under my feet. I could no longer play basketball, drawing ceased to be therapeutic, and my social life was put on pause indefinitely. The only thing I had left was my family, the one pillar I had still left standing—a fact I will remain eternally grateful for.

I spent the next few years after the accident in a haze of self-pity, frustration and depression. I kept my eyes pointed down, pretending it wasn’t my legs that had stopped moving but the whole world around me. I feared the reality was that the world had indeed moved on around me, without me, and I couldn’t take a step, literally or figuratively, to try and catch up. By the time I had the strength to look up, I was in my mid–20s and no longer loved the man I now saw in the mirror. I couldn’t find the smile and little wink from that confident, happy 20 year old guy I had gotten so used to seeing. Instead, like all those years before, I had lost my way so much and was no closer to finding myself again. Thus came my second turning point. I was frustrated with doing nothing about my situation and getting nowhere. But this time, I had the roadmap I had used to find myself before.

Yes, the specific details were quite different, but in both cases, I had a self-image based on how I saw myself through the eyes of others; I had things around me that could possibly give me joy, but I wasn’t embracing them, and I now needed to somehow retrace my steps to find myself again. The difference this time around though, was that last time, I had already discovered things I was passionate about and could focus on before reaching the turning point. Now, I needed to find new ways to ignite the same type of fire in my chest to get me up and going each day. New reasons not to care what others thought when they looked at me. I needed to discover new reasons to love the man I now saw when I looked in the mirror.

I started with the one thing I knew I still had – my family. They were everything back then: my source of happiness, my reminder that I wasn’t alone and my motivation to stay positive (even if only not to see them in pain). Then I tried what felt familiar. I went back to university to continue chasing my career in animation, and I rejoined the basketball team, albeit in more of an administrative/coaching role. Those proved less successful as I still loved them, but no longer to anywhere near the levels I needed in order to love myself again. So as the years went by, I would begrudgingly try my hand at different things. Each thing that didn’t work hurt more than the last and made the next attempt harder. But every little success reminded me there was still hope.

I put more emphasis on my physiotherapy, which was and still is the closest thing to a physical workout I have had in years. I couldn’t draw anymore, so I began collecting figurines of the comic book characters I used to draw. I basically tried to build on the things I knew made me feel good, but not just by increasing the quantity, but by enhancing how I already engaged with them. So, watching movies at my computer became going out to the cinema. Meals became less of takeaways and more of dining out or actively cooking at home. Enjoying visits from my family and friends turned into leaving the house to visit them or going out with them to do things together. But my most significant step forward yet would come from something I once thought would cause me more pain than joy. Thankfully, I was wrong because this was the first thing that gave me that all too familiar feeling I used to get from drawing. That soothing, therapeutic calm feeling I could get lost in for hours while the other kids played outside. But this time, it wasn’t something I could slink into the corner and do on my own. I rediscovered this feeling from sharing my story with others.

 I found that talking about my experiences lifted this weight off my chest that I hadn’t known existed. But more importantly, the lessons I learned from my experiences could also be taught to others. It didn’t even have to be others like me. It could be anyone with an open ear, which seems to be almost everyone. I began sharing my perspective and experiences with friends and family around me, then to students at the University and eventually, somehow, to professionals looking to improve their practices. The feeling this gave me felt too good to sit and wait around for someone to ask to hear my story, but I didn’t want to impose what I had to say on anyone. So I began just putting it out into the ether through this very blog. At first, I didn’t care if anyone was reading; it still felt good to get things off my chest. Then I started to hear from many of you reading now, and realised this thing couldn’t just be for my benefit. I felt I had an obligation to do right by those who lent me their listening ears and reading eyes. I discovered something to keep me accountable with the messages I chose to put out into the world. I have found a purpose I could be passionate about. A purpose that lit that fire in my chest hot enough to get me up and going each day. Something to be proud of about myself.

I was the closest I had ever been to loving myself as much as I did at 20. And though that love might not yet be at the level it was those 15 years ago, the foundations this newfound self-worth has allowed me to build my life on are far stronger than the ones I had built back then. This time, the value of my self-worth can’t be quantified by physical attributes. This time, it is measured in the diverse lives I’ve come across and been impacted by, the positive impact I’ve been able to have on others, and a much deeper and nuanced understanding of who I am and my place in the world. All things that would be immensely more difficult to sweep out from under my feet.

After so long, I am finally in the place where I can look in the mirror at the person I have become and again see the culmination of a lot of growth and acceptance. I once again see resilience, hard work and an ability to overcome more adversity than I had ever faced before. And unlike before, I now also see my tribe. By that I mean you, yes YOU, my family and many others cheering me on with support and encouragement to keep doing what I’m doing. I can finally, again, see a lot to be proud of and a lot to love.

So… I want to throw this back at you. You may not need this right now, you may never need it, but it might be exactly the sort of thing you need to hear as you read this or at some point in the future. Whichever the case, it’s here. If you are struggling right now to be happy with the person you see in the mirror, all hope isn’t lost. More likely than not, the things you need to get you where you want to be are around you or within reach. Standing still, staring at yourself and sitting in that feeling will only start to do you some good if you use what you have to work towards what you want. It probably won’t be easy, but chances are you’ll only see something different if you do something different.

Whichever the case, I wish you all the best. Till next time, stay blessed.