How Self Care Turned From Guilt to Necessity

From my earliest ever memories I can trace it back, the idea that I needed to work to earn things, to deserve things, to be rewarded with things.

This was a lesson that I was taught as a child. That money didn’t grow on trees and if I wanted something, I had to really need it, or save up for it, and therefore, when I did get things, like my very first flip phone, for emergency calls only of course, or my first iPod...

I’ll never forget it. It was blue and I treated it like it was the first and last thing I would ever own. In fact, although it doesn’t turn on anymore, I believe it is still lying in a drawer in my old room back home looking like I just took it out of the box.

I loved my things because I earned them. I worked hard, I never took time off. I felt as though I earned the things that others bestowed upon me, I did not however, believe that I deserved food, or rest, or love. Thus began a persistent and toxic problem.

I was in such awe of my dad growing up. He was and still is a workaholic. Not that this should be glorified, however, if my dad could be described as three things, they would be; always kind, always passionate, always working. Some combination of doing it all for us and in pursuit of the dream.

This was just one of the reasons why I took such great care of all of my belongings because I saw how hard my dad worked and I knew that things didn’t come easy. I'm also sure that some degree of OCD and striving for constant perfection had surely played a part.

But it didn't stop there. The chase was always a predominant force. Every school project that I ever did was incredible and overly articulate. Blood, sweat, and tears were quite literally poured into everything and anything I took on. If I was doing it, I was giving it my all. No exceptions.

And yet, I did not possess even half that ability, to apply that same force when it came to taking care of myself.

I have been told that I am intense.

I suppose I have been this way since a very young age. When I love something I will do anything for it. When I love someone, I love hard, even if that makes me look weak. I don’t play games, I wear my heart on my sleeve. And yet, I could only pour into others, as I was unable to fill my own cup.

I constantly felt like I was overflowing. That I needed to give, almost compulsively to others in order to see something I liked within myself.

I remember that feeling even. That feeling of utter and unwavering confidence in my ability to love someone. I remember feeling the excitement of knowing that I had something so special to give. And I'll be damned, I still think that I'm the best thing you could have in your life. I'll put you on top, I'll fill every space in you that needs filling and I will love you whole heartedly.

But at what cost? Where do I fit into this picture that I have painted of you and only you. How will I go about meeting my own needs, because surely, I am the only one who can give myself what I need and want.

"And honestly, I think that all I ever wanted was to be able to love myself like I loved other people."

Despite painting this picture quite clearly now, I wasn’t really aware of these tendencies until quite recently.

Looking back, I can put the pieces together.

When I play back the memories of crying in the bathtub. I didn’t feel worthy. I didn't think that I deserved to be submerged in warm water. The sensation was too soothing and I had reserved such practices for extreme cases only. Like injury recovery, or the time when I had come down with the flu.

I thought that taking a bath "just because", didn’t feel right. I hadn't worked hard enough, my muscles were not sore enough, my body was not worthy of care I thought.

I fought myself to stay, all the while thinking that the usual quick and cold shower would have been far more appropriate and deserving.

On the topic of deserving.

I think back to the times that I skipped meals because I didn’t feel as though I deserved the food. I hadn’t burned enough calories that day or I had not performed well enough or whatever the reason was, it was never difficult to find one.

There was always a reason why food was only a reward, something that needed to be earned.

Everything kept circling back to the same issue. The inability to care for myself. That gaping hole that kept growing as I continued to give up love. I gave it all away. That which should have been reserved for me, at a time when I needed it most.

Come to think of it, I have spent most of my lifetime fighting myself. I have spent the majority of my adulthood giving all I had to other people and leaving nothing for myself.

I continued to do so because I thought noble of it. Thinking, that was what love was about.

Sacrifice.

I thought that it was about giving up yourself to a person or a cause or a thing. And years later, I realised, that this is exactly what I was doing all this time. Giving up myself for school, for dance, for men, for my teachers, for approval, and I loved anything that distracted me from myself.

Because at the end of the day, I couldn’t sit in a bathtub and feel like I was worth it.

But it wasn’t until the 2020 COVID lockdown that all of this hit me. The moment had come when I had to really sit with myself and my thoughts, and finally give space to this very sad and troublesome reality that has been long, looming over my head for what feels like and probably is, a lifetime. My lifetime.

If I couldn’t give my energy to something, what was I to give it to?

So naturally, that question became "who" not what. Who? No, not me. I just poured more effort into my relationship! Doing everything for the person I love. Again, that’s noble right?

But something felt off.

There was so much time in the day and I had been so accustomed to running myself into the ground, day after day, chasing the hustle and maybe just the fucking high of “doing it all”.

My game was, if I just didn’t stop moving, I wouldn’t have to address anything. I wouldn’t have to hear those thoughts, I wouldn’t have to ask myself why, why I hated myself so much. I wouldn't have to ask myself why I didn’t deserve rest, proper sleep, nutrition, love, or care.

Then the lockdown began to wear on me, it started feeling like an endless loop of nothingness. With nowhere to put my energy, nothing to throw myself at.

Then, just as it had before, my physical symptoms started to kick in. My stomach wouldn't tolerate food, for months my period was off, skipping full months or bleeding all month, my hair was thinning again and my skin felt dry and brittle, and I thought, this has to stop now.

This has to stop right now.

This will consume me completely otherwise. I don’t have any other option. This feels like rock bottom so I think I better rise from these ashes now or I will burn everything around me.

This needs to stop right now because I love life, I love love, and I love me too much to let that happen.

And then I thought, wait.

I love me.

I love me.

That might have been the very first time I have ever even allowed that thought to enter my consciousness. I let it roll around on my tongue a little. I wanted to see what loving myself felt like, what it tasted like, I wanted to savour that moment as I knew it would be fleeting.

And it was. It soon left and the regular and constant hatred for myself returned, and so I made a promise to myself that I would just start doing little things to show myself love everyday until, one day maybe I would feel love.

Just like any new goal, it starts off slow, with the little things. Changing some small habits, rewriting some thoughts, pushing myself out of my comfort zone and pulling myself out of my own sabotage.

And that IS the magic.

That is just what self love looks like. The baby steps, the little things.

From feeling as though self care made me weak, those things that used to fill me with shame and guilt now look like the building blocks of something new.

Do I feel worthy of it now? No, not always. Do I fall back into old patterns, sure. Do I know however, that one day I will find balance, harmony, love for myself even as I grow, change, learn and develop?

A resounding Y-E-S.

No one ever said that you can’t be a work in progress. That you have to be the most perfect version of yourself today in order to be deserving of your own positive self-talk. Of your own gratitude and pride, because, you pulled yourself out, and that takes far more courage than sailing through life unbothered and without difficulty.

So on the days that are especially hard I repeat.

I am deserving of my own patience.

I am deserving of care.

I am deserving of my own love.

I am an evolving and ever growing version of myself.

I am living day by day, and I accept the bad days just as I accept the good ones.

And I do other things to practice self care. And when it’s hard to do so, I focus on the sensations I feel during a moment, rather than focusing on the fact that it’s me participating in it.

So that bath becomes a meditation, a feeling of comforting warmth, eating food becomes an explosion of flavours, memories with a dash of nostalgia, and working out takes me back to loving movement more than anything, and being in awe of my body, that even after all this time, it is still here for me.

If my body were a friend or a lover, they would have left me a long time ago. But our bodies have a way of holding on during the rough times, as if it knows that one day you will turn yourself around. That you will say to it one day, “thank you for all you do”.

Sometimes you have to hit rock bottom for that to happen, or almost lose yourself entirely.

But what is most important is that you do get back up. That you do put in the time and the effort to consciously change your thoughts, behaviour, and then your life. You only get one body, and it deserves your love and care.

That does not mean settling for less when you have goals to work towards and places to be, but it’s about having the strength to give yourself grace when you aren’t quite there yet.

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Jasmine Melrose

Director & Founder of DECO the Blog

Jasmine Melrose is a Toronto native living in Amsterdam. Once a professional dancer, her passions include movement, fitness, yoga, healing, and all things vegan. Jasmine is a 500-hour trained yoga teacher, who loves to get you deeper into your practice. She is also a certified barre teacher who loves making raw vegan, guilt-free and good-for-you treats. Check out her recipes and articles on everything from fitness to yoga, to notes on a journey towards healing.

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