How I Learned to Love Myself (Finally, at 50 Years’ Old)

How I'm Learning to Practice Self-LoveBeing busy used to make me feel good.

The more tasks I ticked off from my to-do list, the more productive I felt.

And I loved the adrenaline rush of working late at night. I kept pushing myself to work a little harder, to achieve a little more.

When running your own biz, there’s always more to do, right?

I thought I thrived on stress.

Late 2014, something changed

I was struggling to recover from a car crash.

I was unable to sit at my desk for long. I couldn’t concentrate. So, I cut my working hours to 15 – 20 hours a week, and I strictly forbade myself to work after dinner.

Initially, I was scared. I didn’t know whether I could run a business in so few hours, and I was afraid of turning into a wimp.

But my productivity soared.

I chose to do the work that nourished my soul and helped maintain my business. I was happily juggling rehab and work.

This summer, my juggling act was rudely disrupted

My rehab wasn’t going well.

Keeping myself together guzzled up all my energy. I lost my optimistic streak. I was mentally and physically exhausted.

I decided I had to make health my sole priority. I had to regain some fitness. I had to cut down my work to 10 hours a week.

You’d think that would be doable, right?

I knew already how to prioritize and schedule my workload. I had done it before, and I had learned to be okay with doing less.

It seemed like a no-brainer.

But I struggled to accept working even fewer hours

I was afraid of being left behind.

I was afraid of disappointing my readers, of failing to meet your expectations, and perhaps even worse, to fail my own expectations for myself.

I was afraid to feel like a loser if I’d give in to my tiredness.

Aren’t we supposed to live our life to the fullest?

I kicked myself for feeling so lost and frustrated. Hadn’t I learned to look after myself? Hadn’t I learned that it was okay to just be?

I had even proudly written a blog post about the difference between being and doing.

Why couldn’t I cope?

Self-compassion is hard

Most of us…

Read the rest.

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