letter to myself

Hey there, Jenny-

So this therapist lady I hung out with the other day said I should write to you. Not sure what to say, really, and to be completely honest, I'm not sure if I've got the emotional bandwidth to pour love into you, which is the whole purpose of this exercise, but I sure will try. "Write a love letter to yourself," the good doctor said, to which I immediately responded "can I pick another prompt?" She said no, of course, so here I am. 

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways:

In none of the ways Browning listed, I daresay. But how DO I love me? How do I "pen" the ways? Do I list the soul-pieces? Do I list the things I'm good at? Do I list physical attributes?

In thinking about this prompt, it has spurred me to consider a great deal more than just "a love letter to myself." I have, for days now, until actually a moment of realization yesterday in the shower (where I do my most real thinking, it seems), wondered how to actually write the letter itself. The format, the words, the structure... In the shower yesterday, however, it occurred to me - rather painfully - that I do not, in fact, know how to love at all, when it comes to men/ relationships; ergo, it isn't the "writing to myself" with which I have a problem, it is the concept of 'love', in both giving and receiving. This shocking revelation led to further contemplation and some conversation with a best friend; I shared with her my thoughts, and she said "but you love me, don't you? And you let me love you, right?" For a brief moment, I thought perhaps my revelation had been quashed, but I quickly realized that it isn't just "loving" or "being loved" wherein my issues lie, it's that "love," in my experience, is only-conditional. Think "lots of strings attached" here. 

                                                               

In my mortifyingly high number of romantic relationships- none of which have been successful thus far - "love" has come with conditions or contingencies, if/ then statements surrounding the whole thing, either on my side or my spouses'. The idea of "love" is only clear to me when I think of my children. This concept of "agape" love - though factually, I know it's how God loves me - is so completely foreign; the only way I can begin to attempt to comprehend its truth is to think of my progeny, and even then, it eludes me to some extent.

                                          

How do I love thee, Jenny, my "self"? Conditionally, I'm sure. Though in a love letter, one ought not mention the conditions. 

I love thee when thou art creating, whether in art, culinary, or written form. 

I love thee when thou art successful at home: though inconsistent, these times include, but aren't necessarily limited to: Aaron (which is rare), Bonham, housekeeping duties (again, a rarity), grad school, KJ, or with the growing number of grombees.

I love thee when thou art spending time with Jesus, loving Him, reading His word, talking to Him. 

         

I love thee when thou art pouring life and love into the underdogs, the "losers," the downtrodden, the struggling... at work specifically, but outside of school, too, this is something admirable in you.

I love thee, Jenny, when thou feels pretty (also not common). 

I love thee, Jenny, when thou canst match wit and intelligence with those you feel possess a superior intellect to thine own.

                                                         

I love you, Jenny, when you are able to forgo the detrimental, critical thoughts that so often enter into your headspace and soul, and when you are able to just be. When you're "Jenny," "Grom," "Mom" or "Mrs. Little!!" and your thoughts are not so consumed with who you think you should be, you are beautiful and lovely, and quite real. When thoughts shut up and take a backseat to the right-now-moments, when the present is in charge, and you realize your worth- even if it's your worth in others' eyes. When you get out of your own way, out of your own head, and you allow yourself to acknowledge and embrace the gifting God has given you, regardless of what the world says or what family says, or what social media says, or what "feelings" say, that's the beautiful, and that's the oh-so-real. That's when I agape-love you the most.

                                                              

What you need to wrap your head around, Jenny, is that even in all the fog and the uncertain, even when I don't love you, God does. I know that's hard, especially when you've had a Pinnochio-life, attached to those pesky strings, contingencies pulling you, heavy. Agape doesn't work that way; try to tell yourself that. Unconditional is just that- without those conditions, without the if/ then. Not the surface-level stuff, though... deeper. 

Give yourself that, along with a heapin' helping of what those who do love you give you: grace. Try to see yourself the way God does, and learn from those with that agape for you. 

And let me love you, too.

Does that help?