It’s 3 am and I’m having too many self realizations to sleep. There is too much anger and resentment for me to rest. I am full of self righteous indignation. How dare someone treat me so badly my whole life that I am only now realizing that I should really love myself?

There is a big difference between being someone you like and actually loving who you are. I have been trying to please others so hard my entire life that I couldn’t put myself first and love me. I was so desperate to be loved and feel loved that I forgot – no will ever love me the way I can love myself.

It took me over three decades to come to such a simple conclusion. It is a very important and basic distinction I could not make because I was trying to not hate myself for so long. The struggle to not hate myself every moment of every day took up all the space in my head. I had no energy left for something as positive and necessary as loving myself. I couldn’t even imagine being loved because I never thought myself as worthy of it. I was taught every day that I’m not good enough and still face that.

I’m finally turning all that internalized hate outward. The world has wronged me. The people that were supposed to protect and nurture me became the greatest source of trauma and abuse. I made it through all that by sheer willpower and stubbornness. I was blessed with a good mind and a big heart so I could hold onto hopes and dreams no matter what. Even in the darkest of dark times, I could keep going.

I am strong, so much stronger than my abusers wanted me to know. I am worthy, so much more worthy than the dregs of humanity made me believe. I am a survivor and a victor. No one and nothing can take away those facts from me other than the lies my PTSD, depression and anxiety tell me – aka me. I won’t abuse myself like that anymore. I refuse. I’ve had it with not being treated right by the world, by people I am good to and most of all by myself.

I am tired of trying to fill the void inside of myself with things and events and fake laughs and forced patience.

I am just going to remember who I am, who I would have been before the abuse and depression tried to swallow me whole.

I am going to remember what makes me truly happy. I am going to find the things that I love having in my life. I am going to make Me my first priority.

All of these very positive thoughts are accompanied by a deep sense of rage. Rage at people I still love, people who aren’t in my life anymore, people who can go to Hell and stay there, people who are toxic and people who are weak in the worst ways.

This duality of feelings is my very nature, always in flux. I used to hate that I couldn’t be a serene stream. I used to hate that people always think of me as a fiery, passionate person – because the underlying suggestion is that I am out of control and too rash. People always shied away from my passion and my vigor for life. They couldn’t feel or think with the empathy and serenity I have or my great sense of altruism. They ridiculed my efforts at every single step. I got past them all and I’m still Here, alive and well, so they can eat shit.

If I am fire, I can both give and take life, give warmth and light in the dark or destroy everything in seconds. If I am water, I can adapt to any place, stone wasteland or swamp, and be a cool, calm spring, a deep and dangerous ocean, a comforting sip of life, or a tempest that destroys it all. If I am both, then I am capable of all of those things.

That’s not something I will ever be ashamed of again. I am who I am. I am fiery and passionate, levelheaded and logical, temperamental and irritable, creative and original, a mediator and a leader all in one.

The world can deal with it. I’m done trying to tone down my awesomeness so others can feel better. Duality is my way forward. I will love myself as obsessively as I love others – with no doubts and no ulterior motives. I am not normal and I’m never going to try and be anyone else again.

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