Be kind

Two thoughts I wanted to share with you:

ONE: “Be kind to yourself.”

I was up until about 0330 last night. My body was exhausted but my mind was going crazy (thanks, Anxiety). As I sat there with my thoughts swirling around my head of things I should’ve done, why I keep failing, & why I’m not like so-&-so, a gentle thought floated to the forefront:

“Be kind to yourself. You’re doing what you can.”

The other critical thoughts were instantly silenced. I said it over & over to really sink it in. Then I thought of my friend, JH. She’s amazing. I was venting about my own stupidity to her once & she told me, “Would you say those things to me or to another friend?” Never! “Okay, well, you’re my friend. Don’t say that to yourself.”

Mic. Drop.

So while I SHOULD be kind to myself, sometimes it’s easier said than done… okay, it’s always easier said than done. And why is that? Well, I hold myself to ridiculous standards that no one, not even Moses himself, could meet. And 99.9% isn’t good enough.

Yeah. I’m working on it in therapy. But you know this.

While thinking about kindness towards myself, I started to really rack my brain & another light bulb went off.

TWO: “I’m doing what I can.”

Even when I was in the best shape of my life, I still had joint issues. I couldn’t do shit on my knees, extend my hips like every other dancer I know, & my back would be screaming at me for random shit like bending over.

Quick story: In high school, I was a cheerleader for a year & a half (drama not my ability). I vividly remembered at some football game that I had to sit down because my knees were in such pain. It looked like I was trying to smuggle two orange halves under my skin. They were so puffy & so full of fluid. I remember seeing my best friend’s knees during halftime & she had two cute dimples on each side of the patella. I did not lol. My friends had noticed & pointed it out to the coach who seemed scared for me. I tried to brush it off as this shit happened a lot for me. I knew I just had to do RICE & it would pass. I could push the fluid around my knee & was instantly fascinated.

Um, FYI, that’s not normal. The fluid part. Not curiosity. 😉

My dad’s joints have been shot for as long as I can remember. My brother & I have issues with ours (he had back surgery in his mid-30s which is hella young IMO). There’s a good fucking chance we just got the shit end of the genetic stick with it & that’s why.

“It’s not the age, sweetheart. It’s the mileage.”

This really clicked when I looked through my FB memories & realized this is the 3rd fucking year I’ve been dealing with ankle pain. I tend to roll it in the winter & then it takes forever to “reset” & be normal. Nobody else has that issue so I was thinking I caused serious damage even though I don’t have any other symptoms.

Maybe I didn’t break anything. Maybe those joints are just fucked as well. No matter how hard I go all in, I keep running into this same issue I’ve had for about 30 years now.

And if that’s the case, maybe I should be kinder to myself. I’m doing what I can & that means my limitations might be greater than someone else’s. I know I’ll never be a runner because my joints can’t handle it. I know I’ll probably never get my straddle splits because my hips won’t let me. I know why I succeed more at weights than cardio. I know my weakest areas are my hips & knees and that’s why I have to take more breaks. I used to think I was weak, pathetic, making excuses. Now I see it as a physical limitation, not a mental one.

And you know what? That’s okay.