Learning To Love Yourself: Even Your Ugly Parts

Does that title make you cringe? It made me cringe when it popped into my head a few days ago.

We don't like to think about our "ugly parts," do we? By ugly parts of course I mean those aspects of ourselves we perceive to be less than perfect. For some it might be physical flaws, like acne, jiggly thighs or a persistent pot belly no matter how many hours we spend in the gym. For others there may be emotional issues like fears, phobias or low self-esteem.

One lesson I keep having to learn over and over in my own life is that the more I resist these aspects of myself, the more I hate them and push them away and try to ignore them, the bigger and more dominant they become. My resistance gives them power over me.

What if we stopped pushing away these aspects of ourselves? What if we (gasp!) accepted them, loved them, embraced them? What happens to them?

For most of my adult life, I've been a cat owner (or I should say, they owned me). Several of them were strays when I took them in, and they were in terrible shape. Covered in fleas, worm infestations, coat and eyes dull. Part of it was their physical health and lack of proper diet, which I remedied over the following weeks. But on a deeper level, these animals were starving for love and affection. I eased that too, by petting them, talking to them, conveying with and without words that they mattered, they were worthy of being loved deeply and fully. And they responded to that.

As the weeks went by, a light would begin to shine in their eyes. They would become more playful and seem happier and more content. Eventually, they no longer resembled the tattered creatures that had come through my door. They were glowing with life and vitality. Their coats became soft and silky, their eyes were bright and alert and they seemed genuinely at peace. Love Transforms. It's as simple as that. Anyone who has loved deeply or has been loved deeply can attest to that.

So how does that apply to our "ugly parts?" What would happen if we loved them and embraced them? Would they transform into something more beautiful? Maybe, maybe not. Those parts of ourselves may exist for a reason, and we may not be able to change them. However, if we can't transform those, maybe we can still transform our perception of them. They will no longer appear "ugly" to us. They simply become one small aspect of our total selves. These individual aspects are not good or bad, they just are.

Loathing certain parts of ourselves is like refusing to look at a rainbow because we don't like the color green. If you like the other colors, you can accept the green at least, right? A rainbow wouldn't be complete without the color green. If we are to accept ourselves, we need to accept ALL parts of ourselves. Some of them we may be able to improve over time, and others we might not. And that's okay.

The important thing is to become at peace with ourselves, rather than fighting these ridiculous battles day after day. We need to embrace ourselves, nurture ourselves and love ourselves. In doing so, we will be transformed, on one level or another.

I Am Woman, Hear Me Set Off The Airport Security Metal Detector

Copyright 2006 Mary Foley As I write this I'm sitting in Dulles International Airport waiting for a flight that departs so early it should be illegal. At least it's a cheap ticket. And even though I've only had three hours of sleep I was amused when the security guard surprisingly said "No beep?!" after I walked through the metal detector. Kinda sounded like an airport security pick-up line. This time I got off lucky with no additional wand scan or bag check. That's not always the case, and when I'm "wanded" there's always one article of clothing that sets off the monitor and declares "I am woman!" - my underwire bra. Increased airport security has stirred some of my female friends to take action. One gal pal is purposely buying a bra without underwire. Another is ready to offer her design ideas to Victoria's Secret for another type of Miracle Bra - one without metal hooks. For some women it's a practical matter of getting through security as fast as possible. But, for others it's a matter of not being embarrassed by drawing attention to the fact that they have breasts, breasts that often need help to stay put and to postpone the effects of gravity. Bras are considered a necessary item for women, at least for the last 100 years or so. And remember, good girls demonstrate modesty; they would never NOT wear a bra! Actually, I don't think it's really about modesty, particularly since I'm no longer 13. I think it's about being embarrassed that you're a woman, that you've got body parts that are attractive to about 50% of the population, and that it's your fault you can't better manage those parts so you're not setting off metal detectors. Follow that line of thinking and pretty soon you feel bad for taking up space, ta-tas and all. This is one time I'm glad the term bodacious is sometimes associated with ta-tas. Bodacious Women know they have breasts and aren't ashamed. They may wear form-fitting clothing or they may not. They may feel sexy some days because of their breasts or they may find them inconvenient protrusions. No matter the choice, their attitude is the same: no apologies for being a woman. Growing up a tomboy, I had an adversarial relationship with my chest. Basically, I didn't want one. Breasts didn't help with sports and they made it all too clear to the world that I would no longer be mistaken as Daddy's "little fella." The last ten years I've grown to like the fact that I'm female and that includes breasts. I also don’t take them for granted as I know there's a one in four chance of losing one or both to breast cancer. So, while I have them I'll wear the bra of my choice, or none at all. Hmmm…perhaps that's what was behind the security guard's remarks. Well, for him it will remain a mystery. For me, I'm glad to be a woman knowing I have bra-related and other choices. And, that's bodacious!