self-love

Trying to Learn to Appreciate My Body

Posted on by Wendy Kennar

You may remember that I regularly complete five-minute writing exercises. (In case you don’t remember, you can read about it in this post.)

Recently, I pulled a random card from Rupi Kaur’s Writing Prompts. Here’s the prompt: “How can you be more appreciative of all your body is doing to keep you alive?”

It’s a powerful prompt, because, at least for me, I’m generally thinking about what my body can no longer do, and what has become increasingly difficult for my body to do, and all the ways my body has changed, and all the ways I’m not pleased with my body in its current state. 

But, stopping to appreciate the work my body does 24/7 to keep me alive? 

It had never even occurred to me before.

Maybe you need this reminder as much as I did — and still do.

This makes me think back to late December, when I was terribly sick with the flu. (I wrote about it here.)

I cried in bed, absolutely terrified that my body wasn’t strong enough to “fight” or “work through” the flu. (Both terms doctors used during Telehealth appointments.) I imagined being one of those outlier cases — someone who is hospitalized and gravely ill from the “simple” flu. I had failed to take care of my body, and now my body was failing me (even more than I felt it usually did on a regular basis).

In bed, unable to eat for several days, I realized I had been pushing myself way too hard. I wasn’t taking care of myself beyond doing the bare minimum. 

Since then, I have tried to get to bed earlier. I have tried to give myself time to do something that isn’t a chore or on a deadline or isn’t anything anyone else is expecting from me. 

Yet, I don’t do these things on a daily basis.

And if you ask me if I am appreciative of all my body does to keep me alive? I would have to say No, no I’m not.

So, what can I do to be more appreciative of all my body does to keep me alive?

For one, I can stop the negative self-talk. I would never speak to my husband or son or closest friends the way I speak to myself.

If I’m stopping that action, I can start another — I can say one complimentary thing about my body each day. And not something like “Those earrings look really pretty on me today,” but something more like, “my hands are strong enough to hang birthday decorations around the house.”

That’s what I’m working on.

How about you, my dear readers? “How can you be more appreciative of all your body is doing to keep you alive?” If you feel comfortable, please let me know in the comments.

Please note: I am including a link to buy the box of writing prompts that I mention in this post. If you use my link, I do make a small commission on your purchase at no additional cost to you. I am working with Bookshop.org which also sends a portion of the profit to support local, independent bookstores.


Everyone But Myself

Posted on by Wendy Kennar

It is absolutely appropriate to judge a book by its cover, especially when it comes to Julie Chavez’s memoir, Everyone But Myself. 

Between the title and the illustration on the front cover, you have a strong sense of what this book is about. This memoir is another example of an author writing the specifics of her life, and in doing so, making it universally appealing to others who “get it.”

In her note to the reader, Ms. Chavez writes: 

“Although the details vary, I’m not alone in this story. Many women ask the same questions I did: How do I respond to all the asks of the world without losing my sense of self — my interests, my desires, my dreams — in the process? How do I remain whole so that, underneath all the repetitive and the annoying and the boring, I can revel in the privilege and miracle of a perfectly messy life?”

Many moms, and I think women in general, experience this struggle; the need to care for others around us while not caring for ourselves. 

These are just a few of the passages that resonated with me:

“Since those early newlywed days I’d discarded heaps of useless advice and ideas, and I’d also learned the difference between distance and space. Distance grew from the accumulation of tiny resentments, the swallowed frustrations that are an inevitable part of coexistence between two imperfect humans. Space, on the other hand, was a necessity, creating room for our deepest needs: respite, rest, recovery.”

“I believed that I would be most fulfilled by being indispensable, that I was loved because I was needed. Protecting space for ourselves may be an issue for those around us, those who are accustomed to our endless availability. But it’s an act of self-care, of self-love, to say, ‘No, this space — this time — belongs to me.’ ”

“It was quiet. I found momentary respite from my world, from its loss and need and upheaval. It was just me, there with myself, the part of me that exists outside of my disparate pieces and roles and obligations and imagined obligations.
I’m enough, I thought. And I’m okay.
One step forward.”

“ ‘You’re handling a lot right now,’ Kim said. ‘I’m not surprised you’re feeling sad.’
These basic affirmations from Kim were invaluable. It was reassuring to hear her observations that my plate was indeed full, that hard things were justifiably hard, that what I was feeling or experiencing was normal. I’d done years of unappreciated work, and the person who appreciated my efforts least had been me. Kim was training me to see this invisible load, to count it as valid and worthy of attention and accommodation. She reminded me that it was normal to have bad days and normal to be an emotional, feeling person in a fucked-up world. Feelings weren’t an early warning sign I was an unbalanced nut. I was merely responding to the ups and downs of life.”

“The changes I had made were small but impactful. I asked for help slightly more often, and I said no far more often. I embraced rest and put some items on my to-do list purely because they brought me joy.”

“Even though I’d occasionally painted them as insatiable leeches, the people who loved me wanted me to take time for myself. They wanted me to balance my needs with theirs, to be well and whole. I was allowed to hand off responsibilities to my husband, my kids, and others, and I was even allowed to phone it in if that’s what was best for my overall balance and wellness.”

“Therapy with Kim helped me rewrite some of the stories I had grown accustomed to telling myself. She taught me that worrying didn’t necessarily make the future brighter, but it did make the present darker.”

“I was learning to ask myself the question I’d ask someone I love: What do you need? And then whatever answer arrived — be still, exercise, meditate, lie on the couch with a book, text Kim some depressed-looking bitmojis and ask if she has appointments available — I did it.”

Please note: I am including a link to buy the book that I’m highlighting this week. If you use my link, I do make a small commission on your purchase at no additional cost to you. I am working with Bookshop.org which also sends a portion of the profit to support local, independent bookstores.

Happy Valentine’s Day

Posted on by Wendy Kennar

I don’t remember how I celebrated Valentine’s Day when I was an elementary school student. 

But I do remember how I celebrated as an elementary school teacher.

A few weeks before Valentine’s Day, I sent a note home which included a class list. If children wanted to pass out Valentine cards, they were asked to bring one for each classmate. (This was not just a Mrs. Kennar-rule. Other teachers did the same thing.)

When I taught fourth grade, I added an in-class activity. Each student was given two stapled papers. The papers had lines on them and some decorative hearts in the corners. Each student was instructed to write their name at the top of the page. 

The whole class stood up and left their papers on their desks. Everyone moved one seat down and wrote something complimentary on their seat mate’s paper. There were a few rules: no compliments or praise based on looks, including things you wear or levels of attractiveness. 

Before we began, we did brainstorm some possible compliments and words of praise we could use for each other. Such as:

You always share your eraser with me.

You have neat handwriting.

When you read aloud, I can always hear you even though I don’t sit near you.

You always remember to say thank you when I pass out papers.

We spent quite a bit of class time, making sure we wrote on each student’s paper. And, my students would encourage me to have a paper as well. When the activity was done, we returned to our seats and took time to quietly read the words of praise our classmates had written. 

It was one of my favorite activities, because I think too often we don’t know how we have impacted someone else. We don’t always take the time to share a kind word. But with this activity, my students would have these written words to take with them, and they  could look back at them any time they needed a boost.

So along those lines, I am going to take this opportunity to show a bit of self-love. I am always quick to praise and compliment and offer kind words to others. It’s much harder to do the same for myself. 

In the spirit of Valentine’s Day, a day of friendship and love, here are two compliments I give myself:

– I am considerate. I offer cold bottles of water to any service technicians or repair people who come to our home. Any time I see our mailman, John, I thank him for the day’s mail and give him a cold bottle of water as well.

– I am thoughtful. I make notes of friends’ doctors appointments and important life events so that I can reach out with a text, an email, or a phone call and let my friends know I’m thinking of them.

Happy Valentine’s Day, my dear readers! Feel free to share a compliment or words of praise about yourself.