Last weekend I had one of the best weekends I’ve had in a long time, and all it took was a giant catastrophe to occur.*

* a giant catastrophe in the first world probl

Despite the fact that my weekend was tinged by some painful emotions (or perhaps because it was),

I flung myself into a flurry of self-care never previously seen in Andreaville.

During this bout of uncharacteristic being-nice-to-myself, I suddenly had an epiphany: maybe THIS is that self love thing all those tossers are talking about!

I’ve always cringed all over every part of my body (even my toes) when I hear someone say

“you just need to love yourself more”

to someone who’s struggling.

It’s perhaps my most hated sentence ever.

Certainly in the top three shittest pieces of advice.

Sure if someone said, ohhhh I see what the problem is here, you just need to love yourself more… And here are the instructions for HOW to do that, a step by step guide in practical, non-floaty steps… Perhaps then I’d only cringe a little, and not with my toes.

Anyway. So as I was sitting on the grass in my tiny garden on the grass I planted, having a picnic with myself with one of my new favourite foods, next to the hammock I bought in Nicaragua 6 years ago that I’d spent the day drilling and tieing up, after two very lengthy trips to my favourite shop: Bunnings. (I had to put a premature full stop because the sentence was getting out of hand.) So as I was doing all the above, I felt a sense of kindness towards myself that I’ve rarely experienced.

I was looking after myself like a friend for a change!

Asking her what she wanted to cheer her up, and actually bloody letting her do it (without the guilt).

It was bafflingly simple, this self-love thing, yet somehow it required a lifetime of self hatred minus a few years of self “development” (aka fixing everything that is “wrong” with me) and a bout of shit-hitting-the-fan in order for me to discover it.

Suddenly the answer appeared crystal clear.

I’m sure I’ll lose sight of this realisation shortly, so I must document it!

Self love = treating yourself like someone ELSE you love, or like a small child!

Suddenly you’re accepting all the flaws, laughing kindly at the tantrums, taking care of yourself without also shouting “Get off your lazy ass and be productive!!” at yourself on the inside. And taking yourself for Mr Whippy.

If Mr Whippy had come past over the weekend, it would have made my weekend truly complete.

I ate a block of Loving Earth instead, so all was ok. Ok, and I also ate a Cadbury Easter bunny. Yes I know it’s not Easter yet.

So there you have it,

if my slave-driving self is capable of self love, then I bet you are too.

I highly recommend that you jump on the coattails of my hard-won epiphany and treat yourself like your best friend who needs your support this weekend.

What do you ACTUALLY want to do for yourself this weekend?

Make it happen.

Even if only for an hour.

 

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