Return To Yourself

When I was about six years old I put on my favorite dress for school one morning and topped my hair with a big bow, even knowing that wearing dresses was a hot topic amongst my many bullies at school. As I was gathering my backpack to head out the door for the school bus, my mom stopped me and asked if I wanted to change because she knew the kids at school made fun of me for wearing dresses (it wasn’t a popular choice for kids back then, like dresses are popular now) and I told her no. My mom likes telling me how I turned to her that morning in the doorway and said, “I’m not going to change who I am for anyone else,” before marching out the front door to the bus stop with all the conviction a six year old can have, and I sure had a lot. I was a stubborn kid. I don’t quite remember that moment completely as I was so young but I do remember being tormented on a daily basis about my dresses or my curly hair or any number of things about me. When I was a couple years later it was my love of playing dolls, my imagination, or my love of reading that was picked on. I also remember deciding that I wasn’t going to stop dressing the way I wanted to and being who I loved because the kids at school didn’t like it. Even at six years old I knew that it had nothing to do with me. It didn’t matter what I wore or what I looked like, these kids were just mean and it had nothing to do with me.

My sixth birthday, July 1996.

I also knew from a young age that if I ever found love that I wanted it to be with someone who liked me as I am. I was a bookworm with an adventurous spirit, always daydreaming of the places I wanted to explore and making lists of the things I wanted to try, to see, and to do.

I was content with spending hours by myself and watching nature right in front of me. Pleasure was found in swimming in the lake, kayaking, riding my bicycle, reading a good book, having picnics and tea parties, being creative, making art, taking photographs, dressing in clothes that made me happy, and picking flowers to press between wax paper and heavy books.

My little brother and I 1998.

I never thought that I had ever lost myself. All throughout my childhood and early adulthood I kept authentically to myself, much to the dismay of bullies and toxic people who wanted to bring me down. Through the busyness of my studies in college and the start of my college romance with my now husband, I stayed firm in who I was. Through odd jobs and side hustles and creating my photography business, I always found slivers of time for the things that I loved, even if it was as simple as drinking a cup of tea or reading a poem. I knew people viewed me as quirky or “odd,” but it wasn’t worth changing myself to make others like me.

If people resented me for being myself it was because they didn’t feel like they could be themselves. If they made fun of what I do, I often discovered that they never followed their own hearts or desires. If they didn’t like me, then that was their problem. Even if other people didn’t like me, that was ok because I liked myself. I wasn’t pretty or even considered to be very smart, but I was happy with who I was. Even when I had moments that I did not feel pretty enough or smart enough or that I hated my hair or who I was, I never wanted to be like or look like anyone else. I didn’t realize then that I had radically accepted myself from such a young age. Radical acceptance wasn’t something I had even heard about until my late twenties, when it turned out that I needed it most.

It isn’t until later in my adulthood when the foundation was shaken. From all the abuse I suffered in my childhood at home and bullying at school, I thought I was more resilient. But when you face covert narcissistic abuse from someone you deeply admire, love, and look up to, the non-stop gaslighting and manipulation tactics and blame are extremely powerful when getting you to turn upon yourself. Even in adulthood we are prone to damages caused by other people, especially when the people doing the harm are the ones that we love. The abuse had been there for a very long time, I just hadn’t seen it until it ramped up to the point of being on a nearly daily basis. I stopped liking myself. I started to believe all the bad things that were told to me or about me. From the subtle digs at my appearance and weight and my hair and eyes to the assassination attempts of my character and my empathy, I started to feel like I wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t pretty enough, skinny enough, smart enough, or a good enough person.

For two years I felt my foundation crumble and I stopped being myself and when that happened I even stopped doing what I loved. I tried to make myself less of a target by giving my accuser less to use against me. I even turned to self sabotage in my photography career and my blog because it was so heavily criticised. But that wasn’t the solution. Because once more, I was not the problem. No matter what I diminished about myself, this toxic person would find something else. It wasn’t until I walked away from this toxic and abusive person for good that I realized all that I had given up in pursuit of appeasing this person. How I had let go of parts of myself to make this person like me and accept me and to love me. How had I let go of the things that I loved that made me me?

Now one year later I am feeling like myself again. At the age of thirty I have rediscovered what I once knew all along; that I like myself for who I am. I hope that you have found that within yourself too. I have found my creativity and my adventurous spirit. My imagination is blooming again like a flower bulb frozen under the soil all winter long. With spring comes a rejuvenation of self. My healing journey began two months before the pandemic shut down the United States. Suddenly I wasn’t just confronted with my own healing, but with myself too. Perhaps you can relate to suddenly having all this extra time once the pandemic hit. I believe that many of us wondered what we should be doing now. When my business was closed and I couldn’t be a wedding photographer for the year, what could I be? I floundered for a little while. I felt like a failure for a short period.

It doesn’t always take a harmful person or event to make us lose parts of ourselves. We get caught up in pursing a goal, studying for school, managing relationships, caring for others, training for a career, or chasing the next promotion that we suddenly realize one day that we let go of doing the things we love most, the things that make us who we are. When we stop doing the things that we love, we lose pieces of ourselves. We lose our joy.

As difficult and terrible as this pandemic has been for so many people, it has also brought us all closer in connection to each other, to nature, and to ourselves. I have felt that this pandemic has created a great return to self. We have reconnected to the people and the places and the things that matter most to us. People have picked up new hobbies, but even better, we have found the passion for the activities that we love the most that we haven’t spent much time on over the past few years or more. I always thought that I had never lost anything, until I had all this extra time I realized that I have let go of more than I ever knew.

I have picnicked many times over the past several years, but now I do it much more often. My inner child is happy with the amount of picnics I have ventured on. Matthew surprised me with a new bike and we have been spending countless hours exploring the trails and roads around our new home. I’m reading more often, even books that I never had the chance to enjoy in my childhood like The Wind and the Willows by Kenneth Graham. I’m reading vintage girls mystery series just for fun and I make myself tea in the mornings with my favorite floral vintage tea cups. I find myself doing things that take longer because they’re more fun that way. Doing things just for fun isn’t a new concept, but it is one that I haven’t indulged in for a very long time.

My husband has had more time for his favorite pastime of bird watching. It feels as if we are all reconnecting to who we once were and merging it with who we are now. The things that we love most in youth never really go away. They are such a part of who we are now.

And I even bought myself a flower press in time for spring to press flowers again. It has been so many years since I picked flowers and pressed them between two sheets of waxed paper. It is as if a part of my soul has reawakened from a long nap. Like a bird that has had it’s wings clipped, those feathers grow back and when they do I hope you fly again.

This spring, if I could wish you anything, it is to return to yourself and do the things that make you who you are. If this pandemic has taught you anything, let us remember that life is short and should be enjoyed; that we should be kind to others and the planet, but also to ourselves. It has felt so amazing to see people flock to parks and bike with their families. People have played games together, tried new things, and cooked delicious meals. They have baked, practiced new languages, sketched, painted, sewn, knitted, read, and created. Play the sports and the games that make your heart sing. Get outdoors and hike, swim, kayak, bike, skate, and explore. Throw a baseball, go on the swings, camp, put together that puzzle, and go for the highest score in your favorite video game. Dress in a way that makes you feel great about yourself. Learn to love your natural hair. Learn to love who you are. And most of all, be with the people and do the things that bring you joy and happiness. You are important. Your life is important. Learn to like yourself, accept yourself, be yourself. And never ever put yourself on the back burner again. Return to yourself before you miss out.