I hate this term. I really do. It was on the tail end of that gratitude list I noped out on at the end of last month, but I’m still thinking about it. I’ve been thinking about it a lot over the years. You see, I grew up in a faith tradition that prioritizes love of God and love of others. I don’t think those are bad things, not at all. Truly. In fact, I think by loving others we are working on behalf of the divine. (I don’t have it all mapped out. My theology is mushy along the edges. And frankly, I think the folks who have absolute certainty are a little scary. Bless them. It makes navigating life a lot easier, but as Tina Turner said “we never ever do nothing nice and easy.”) Where do things fall if we see ourselves as inherently selfish and thinking about ourselves as sinful? I suspect infused with a lot of guilt. Hello! But folks who do think of themselves first and only tend to be, pardon my French, assholes, and pretty intolerable. So how do we walk in the world loving others and not being a jerk while still tending to our own needs?
I have a lot of things to work through and thankfully have a counselor and the means to do it, but I’ve graduated from active self-loathing to a hesitant self-like and that’s pretty cool. I had a professor in grad school, one of my very favorites actually, who taught me more than any single notion about early modern European history with this one idea–do something every day that benefits your future self. On some level, we already do those things: eating, brushing teeth, bathing, putting on shoes. As we have the capacity, it becomes more complex. I used to look at things like healthy eating, exercise, chores as burdens, as things that I felt guilty if I didn’t do. These weighty obligations bogged me down in more guilt and anxiety, especially as I failed to do them well. But in recent years, I’ve thought more of things in terms of gifts. Getting a gym membership in August was a gift to January Becci. Eating planned out meals and enough protein means I don’t get sick as easily and I feel better. Taking care of the laundry and the dishes are gifts so I can rest more peacefully in my own home. Travel is a gift to fill my heart and memories with experiences. These gifts don’t make me less infused with a desire to love the Divine or my neighbor; they give me more strength to do so.
To sum up, I’m still going to hate the term self-love. It sounds more like masturbation (and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that) than a philosophy of not pouring from an empty cup. For me, the question boils down to how can we share bouquets of flowers if we don’t tend our own gardens?
Feryl Files 