[brain fart] what’s beauty?

not that i have any actual credentials to be a true connoisseur of beauty,
i sort of developed this idea about beauty through my years on earth.

before TSW, i’ve always been happy about how i look.
on the spectrum of self hate and self love, i think it was pure self love.
i never noticed any perceived flaws, because i was too focused on what i deem as good qualities on myself.

when we are young, we tend to see things in black and white.
it’s either all good, or all bad.
people either hate themselves or love themselves, it’s as though there is no in between.

things changed over the years though.
social media was growing at a time when i was dealing with TSW.
losing what i prized and valued while others show case their best self online did things to my mind.
i started noticing what i don’t have, or the differences between me and my ideals.
whereas in the past, i never had ideals before. i was me, unique, and special.

that was the beginning of the story about me losing my self love, and the quest to find it.

the thing is, i would be fine without self love.
it was the loss of self love, and the presence of self hate that tipped things off the balance.
i guess most been through that phase of “URGH i hate how my skin is right now!” when things got bad.
i felt like a monster, i think i looked like a monster.
i have no love for the person i see in the mirror, at all.
what’s that thing staring back at me?

i think that was how my self esteem began to tank.
which made it really hard for me to function like i did because i was so confident before that.
navigating through relationships was like swimming in a brand new sea.
except, the sea is pretty much the same, it’s just that now, i’m without my proper protective swimming gears,
so my fear of being attacked or getting hurt grew, so much so that they took over my decision control.

quoting rupaul, if you can’t love yourself, how in the hell you gonna love somebody else?
it made so much sense, because of something called projection.
how i interpret my actions towards myself is also how i interpret other’s actions towards me.
what happens when i see nothing but hate through my eyes?
that others don’t actually love me, because even i don’t like myself!
and why would i want to love another when all i think i’ll receive is pain?

learning to love myself was a journey in itself.
it took months, and months, and months.
imagine me swimming in the sea, finally getting more accustomed to it,
no longer thinking that everything is out there to kill me,
a fucking iceberg appeared out of no where and i swam right into it, kinda like what titanic did.
for a while, fear and panic took over again, until i talked my mind out of it as i grew more confident.
“hey, that didn’t actually kill me yea? and now i’m better at spotting ice bergs from afar, i can better avoid them!”.

the cycle repeats itself.
first it was iceberg, then it was airplanes diving from the sky.. it seem to get progressively worse.
but that’s not the actual case.
the usual stuff still pops up, like a drift wood, plastic trash, potentially deadly bacteria brewing in the ocean, but over time,
i’ve learnt that can’t bring me down, so they go pass my danger radar.
each day, my self esteem grows a little thanks to my constant effort to practice compassion

you know, being kind to others is ultimately an act of kindness towards ourselves.
none of that “pay kindness forward until it pays you back” BS,
but simply, projection.
if i do not harbour any mean motive towards someone else, i wouldn’t think others are harbouring the same bad motive towards me when a similar action is done onto me.

our biggest enemy is indeed our self.

in my practice of self compassion and cultivating kindness for others,
i came across this cute little birdy called rhea.
she has the beak and feather disease which caused her to be featherless.

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A post shared by Rhea The Naked Birdie† (@rhea_thenakedbirdie)

i remember how i felt when i first saw her – a sense of familiarity, because she’s just like me, having an issue that affects her appearance.
except, she is much cuter even though she’s featherless.

the thoughts that went through my mind was what helped me chase away self hate.
“even though she looks different, but she is still loved. heck, i still find her cute and adorable! wait a minute…. if that’s the case.. if something broken can still be loved and adored by others, does that mean i can be loved too?”

and that question lifted off that smoky haze that’s been clouding my mind for a while.
in loving a broken bird, i was able to learn how to love and appreciate myself and my perceived flaws.
and with that self love, i now deem myself worthy of someone else’s love.
what that means is, my insecurities aren’t as rampant as before, the voices in my head no longer tell me the worse case scenario of getting my heart broken when things didn’t go according to my expectations.
and if they do, which is much rarer than before, i am able to tell it to fuck off, because i can tell fact from fiction.

can’t always trust my mind sometimes!

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A post shared by Rhea The Naked Birdie† (@rhea_thenakedbirdie)

rhea looked cute before when she still had all her feathers, but being naked doesn’t make her any less cute!

being judgemental/critical kinda suck,
because when i’m not judging others, i’m busy judging myself.
but love, kindness, and compassion is the antidote to that.

just a little brain fart that’s been sitting around my brain far too long.