I Like Me.

I had dinner with my mum’s friends a couple of nights ago (outside, socially distant, of course, I’m no savage). As the three old friends went down memory lane, reliving college days at night clubs in the 70’s and teenage romances, the women began to share other stories — adjusting to married life as Indian daughters in law, navigating domestic politics in large joint families, sacrificing promising careers to be dutiful mothers, wives and homemakers. The gentleman in the group had no such stories to share by the way, but that’s just a side.

In the flurry of sad and comedic tales about the rules of engagement (literally and metaphorically), the 75 year old lady across from the fireplace from me declared with a sigh—

“And I was finally able to say ‘I like me. It’s ok if you don’t, but I like me”.

I was taken aback.

Three simple words, but so hard to say, let alone believe. And I am certain that it took her the better part of seven decades to get there. What a way to live.

In this day and age, we fight that fight a little bit earlier, teaching girls as early as elementary school the concept of ‘self-love’. We layer them with skills so that they may feel empowered and teach them that beauty is not just skin deep. By the time they get to the tricky years of middle and high school, we teach them about sisterhood and put them in team sports in the hope they they don’t turn on each other.

Sometimes they do, sometimes they don’t.

And while it’s hard for girls, it’s certainly no picnic for boys either. If you’re not sporty enough as a kid, or then not rich or powerful enough as an adult, you’re basically toast. Our definitions of success are just as narrow and dangerous for men as they are for women. Thanks for that, Patriarchy.

And while our self-imposed, man-made, social contracts are much to blame, I believe the deeper issue lies with our compulsion to peg our self-worth to external variables, when we know deep down what truly matters to us. It’s why we get stuck in soulless professions, loveless relationships, lifeless lives.

“At some point you will realize that you are doing harm to yourself by being what you think you should be so that someone approves of you. In the language of the Contract, compromising who you are to gain the approval of another is a very precise example of giving away a piece of your spirit.”

— Caroline Myss, Sacred Contracts.

There are many ways to think of the soul, whether you’re guided by ancient religious, new-age gurus, pop musicians… An idea I like is that we’re all sent into this life with lessons we need to learn and gifts we can employ.

It’s like we’re in our very own video game, meeting challenges and unlocking achievements on our path to enlightenment. What’s not to love?

The thing though, about this game of life, is that we’re competing with no one but ourselves. People we meet along the way help us to achieve our goals and to complete our quest, should we choose to look at their presence in our lives symbolically instead of literally. But we’re not really playing the same game as they are. Everyone is on their own path.

Why then do we give them the power to judge us, to define us, to disrobe us?

This Thanksgiving, if you’re alive and healthy, you have a lot to be grateful for. If you’re eating well, and surrounded by loved ones, you have a lot to be grateful for.

But most of all, if you can look in the mirror and truly like who you’re looking at, you have most to be grateful for.