The Pearl

I love myself. I really do.

It is always taboo to say that you love yourself. It is conceited at best, delusional at worst. Surely one should be humble enough to not aired it. Is it not more elegant to not publicly acknowledging it? What good of such tactless announcement will make?

But I love myself. I love my winning smile. I love how my curves look. I love the seductive way I walk in high heels. I love the ruthless point-hungry monster when playing board game. I love how well I cook. I love how adventurous I am. I love every single part of myself.

Yet all of those are not an ode of how great I am. All of those are gospels of how great my tribe is.

That smile is the result of uncountable hugs and 'just checking on you' poured indiscreetly on me. My bosom-up-back-straight is the result of the confidence born from shamelessly loved. Be it in person or by electronic means, I was loved ruthlessly by my tribe. The type of love that flow more freely than a river, much deeper than the ocean. 

I love my ex-boyfriend. I think a part of me will always love the person he is. The sharp pain was unbearable when I left him, but with each passing moment the love I received form a protective coat over that thorn. One at the time, day after day. It is no longer intensely painful. In fact, my life with him now feels like a distant memory or even a dream in the multiverse.

This is what love do. Love protects. Love accepts. Love is the beauty that covers the pain. Not making it disappear, but to lessen the impact. For we will not be able to appreciate what we truly have unless we accept the pain. And I am loved abundantly.

I love who I am because it is a reflection of how much love I have received. From my friends, from my family, from my ex-lovers. Each broken part was covered in gold, each pain is layered with comfort and care. Each makes me the beautiful person I am. The pearl. The rare jewel.

I accepted that. I accepted humbly that there must be something good about me that makes my tribe loves me and care for me so much. Even when my impostor syndrome kicks in, I firmly told myself that I have to trust my tribe. Just because I do not see anything good in me, it does not mean they see it the same way. Do I not put them in highest respect? Why do I doubt them, then?

This acceptance is the hardest part of my growth. It is too easy to play victim, to resign to "nobody loves me" or "I am not worthy of love". With that mindset, you can easily shift your failure to someone else. You can hide behind that excuse as to why your life is miserable. 

To accept you can be loved means taking the full responsibility of your action and how it affects your life. To accept it means accepting the reality that you could be the true villain and you just keep f*cking up royally. It takes different kind of balls to man up and be open to such consequences.

But oh how worthy the payment is. How beautiful you would be if you let yourself grow, if you let yourself heal. I have never felt more beautiful, stronger, fiercer than I am right now. It feels like walking to war in a set of indestructible armor. I am the proudest pearl that shines and gleams, grateful for the pain and the love that made me who I am.

I still think of him at times, still hoping the best for him. Father's Day, birthday, he was still in my mind. That chapter is closed, and happier chapters start filling the book. I wish him the same peace and happiness I found, wherever and however he may find it; also for others who still think they are not worthy of love. 

It is ok to be not ok. It is ok to be vulnerable. It is ok to graciously accept love. It is ok to believe in kindness. It is ok to accept help. Be the best version of you, scars and everything. There is so much good in this world still. Trust me.