“If you don’t love yourself who else is going to?”
I’d returned from Canada for a fortnight visit, my baby girl was 6 months old and I was anxious about meeting an old friend. Not just because she has forever been the creative babe to which I could never compare but also because I wanted to share some things with her.
we were back just to visit because we’d decided to stick it out in Canada, the three of us, keeping at it, the Canadian dream, the good life. But in truth it had been far from the good life, not long had we bought our dream fixer upper home when the first infidelity began. And there in the midst of home renovations, all rubble and dust, we tried to figure it out, he pleaded, I ranted, raged and then collapsed wearily into forgiving. Because that’s what we’re supposed to do and who would I be without him anyway? After all I’d been his loyal puppy since aged 19.
The renovations continued in the house as they did in the marriage. No longer was he on a pedestal. People used to call us “the love birds”, a stranger on the tube once asked for photos of us, we were a ‘force to be reckoned with’ - but that was then. And now, now the reckoning had been done, Now there was distance and disappointment. My belief in grace, forgiveness and trust were being tested to the max and I know now how misinformed I was on such things. I see with hindsight how unhealthy it was to bend myself into trusting when it had not been earned. How I prized forgiveness over my own emotional safety.
And this of course laid me bare and vulnerable to further indiscretion. Which in time was revealed. And so it goes
1. He begged and pleaded
2. I ranted and raged
3. I wearily collapsed into forgiving..
...Because that’s what we do and who would i be without him? (Though I’d a growing concern regarding the person I was becoming with him, depleted, let down, chipped away)
But this time I was guarded, hard and distrustful. Which in time he’d resent me for.
The renovations progressed, Interior walls were moved, floors laid, new doors fitted and then to everyone’s surprise - the strip turned blue.
Maybe it could all be a blank slate?
Sitting on the picnic blanket in Belfast’s botanic gardens with the only friend here that I’d trusted with it all, I told her the journey in hushed, teary tones, whilst Molly giggled and cooed.
“I may not know what it’s like to have your husband cheat on you Alli. But I know what it’s like to have your lover betray you...it changes you, you realise: if you don’t love yourself - who else is going to?”
This was truly the first time I had heard self love articulated. It was radically different from the fluffy ‘self esteem’ speak i’d heard so many times before, which depended on being built up by others. What my friend was talking about was resilient, tough, self love - the ultimate offensive weapon to a world full of people that will chew you up and spit you out.
Those words have always stuck with me. And I’m glad I didn’t know then how many times I would need to be reminded of them. You could argue it’s more than a little pessimistic, “who’s gonna love me?”, But isn’t that the question we are always asking ourselves? And isn’t the easiest answer the only one which we can control? I will love me. I will show up for me and it will be a radical resistance to all the things that go on externally that threaten to chip, recede and demolish.
I used to think self love was selfish. But we are talking about two very different things here. Distinctly different, not opposite things on the same spectrum.
It’s taken me years to really put in place this kind of self love - but I recently LOVED watching spike lees Netfix series ‘she’s gotta have it’ Nola darling exemplifies this resistance Best
Happy valentines xx
