Several years ago, a friend convinced me to take an online class called #chooseyou, run by a lovely and amazing photographer, professor, and artist (not necessarily in that order) named Jane Ammon. I was reluctant, not because of the cost (it was nominal), or the time (it was minimal), or any reason other than I was already a heavy journaler and truth-seeker. I didn’t think the class would offer me anything I couldn’t have found on my own. Instead, the very first assignment became the inception of this blog. Over the course of several weeks, each week with a different creative assignment, I came closer and closer to the truth I’d been afraid to admit for pretty much my entire marriage: I didn’t love my husband. And more importantly, I didn’t love myself. Even though I had a notable career in a renowned school district, I felt like I’d done nothing of importance with my life. I hold a Bachelor’s Degree from a Jesuit university, a Master’s Degree, and a post-degree certificate in leadership, but I should have gone to law school. I was a National Writing Project Fellow, but I wasn’t publishing my work. I was charging $150/hour for tutoring because families respected and appreciated what I could do for their children, but I felt like a terrible teacher most days. I had two smart, savvy, well-adjusted children, but I found motherhood unfulfilling. I had run three half marathons and one full marathon, but never ran again after that. I’d never run again. I’d never be as good a mother as my kids deserved. I’d never make a name for myself as a writer.
Negative self talk is a crippling disease. So when it came time to complete our final assignment for the #chooseyou class, which was to write a love letter to ourselves, I dropped out of the class.
But I kept coming back to the letter. It would take me several weeks before finally being able to write it, but I did it. And writing that letter was a powerful thing. It seems so simple now, and what I wrote was nothing earth shattering. But telling yourself what you love about yourself–it’s a gift we rarely give ourselves. I didn’t publish that letter because it felt self-indulgent. But the more I learn about communicating with others, the more I understand the role that modeling plays. We teach through example much more effectively than through directions. As I think about all that this new year might offer, it feels right to revisit this assignment, and to maybe find a few more things to love about myself.
(mostly) full disclosure 