Practicing Self-Love
Valentine’s Day is a day dedicated to celebrating those we love, usually taken in a romantic context. I’ve heard so many different stories on the origins of this holiday, I’m not even sure what the truth is—though I suppose that doesn’t technically matter anymore as I doubt our current celebrations are an accurate reflection of what this day was originally designed to be, anyway.
I have a couple of ideas for blogs that I would like to write, but haven’t been able to make the time as of late due to a plethora of personal challenges that I’m working through at the moment. But, since this is an annual holiday-type-situation, I wanted to at least make the effort to say something relatively pointed, with no real importance to anyone except myself.
I’ve been writing poetry since I was a kid, and I’ve always done my best to pull inspiration from my experiences. Most of which, I don’t feel quite comfortable with revealing. Not that I don’t think others would gain anything from it or I worry about the exposure of my personal thoughts and feelings, but I write those poems for myself—to process those experiences and try to understand them better from several different perspectives. In doing so, I have written most of my poems in the context of trying to understand different aspects of myself and learning how to approach self-love while also acknowledging and forgiving myself for my worst mistakes. It has been a difficult process, letting go of the idea that I could create a perfect version of myself that I felt like was worth loving, and instead learning to love the person I already am despite my flaws. A tough road that we all must tread at one time or another.
So in honor of this Valentine’s Day, I decided to share some of my poems. The first one, I’m posting in full, followed by excerpts of a couple others that I feel tell the story of that struggle but ultimately, end with that love.
Happy Valentine’s Day—and don’t forget to give some love to yourself, as well.
The Library of Undeniable Truth (September 2023)
I entered the library of collective thought
To find The Book of Life.
Thinking, maybe, I’d find the answers I needed
To end this lifelong strife.
Found books, battered and bruised,
Pages taped together from pieces.
A bread crumb trail guided every thought,
Obsessed with what the meaning is.
Found notes on some of the edges,
Wrapped around valuable text.
The notes spoke of a life now lost.
Considering the plan, I wondered, what next?
I asked the librarian about the book,
A woman dressed blue and green.
She looked at me with a heart full of love.
Said, “Remember, and you’ll know what it means.”
I’ve always been a dreamer.
Lost in the forest of my mind.
Naturally, I wanted to believe her,
But dreaded the answers I would find.
I felt too familiar with the pages
And the notes inscribed within them.
I thought, I could have written them myself,
Conveniently forgotten, then lost the pen.
It would be too easy, I know,
To have forgotten visiting here before.
I could have sabotaged the knowledge,
Written sacrilege on the door.
There had to be some kind of proof
Hidden in the text of another book.
I wanted to find it, just to know,
But was too afraid to look.
Too afraid of being wrong.
Not for ego’s sake.
It’s just that I believed for so long,
I don’t think I could take the heartbreak.
With shaking hands, I returned the book
To the librarian in the ocean dress.
She stopped me to wish me well,
Saying, “You have the answers, you just need to rest.”
I left the library with solemn thoughts,
Not knowing where to turn.
In my furious desperation for truth,
My bed and chairs were burned.
There was no choice in the matter,
So, I laid there on the floor
Where I could see plainly from my post
The sacrilege written on the door.
Some excerpts:
“I’d conjure the world
Just for you, my dear.
Let the rest go,
All good things are here.”
—From “All Good Things (May 2021)”
“Too many pot holes and broken bridges
In this dystopian nightmare.
Like rust on the overpass,
Shifting the reflection in the mirror.”
—From “Roses (April 2024)”
“For years I feared the water
Refused to stand on the shore
Scared of my reflection
Of the truth it would show
I believed it would be clear
Ripples slowed so I could see
My sanity now shattered
By something I used to be…
(REDACTED)
…Shocked and displaced
No longer feeling myself
I left the shoreline damaged
Pain dismantling my doubt.
That was when I finally felt
The tears sting my eyes
My throat caught in the silence
I’m sorry, I didn’t know why.”
—From “Starry Night (August 2022)”
"The brightest star in my sky,
I’ve never floated so high.
The universe in your eyes—
I dreamed that smile was mine.”
—From “Tell-Tale Heart (June 2021)”
“If you are the Sun,
Then I am the Moon.
I only glow because
I reflect your light.
A light that shines through the darkness,
Piercing like beams that cut through
Cracks in stained-glass masterpieces…
(REDACTED)
…Sometimes I forget
Where you end
And I begin—
The line blurred like
How the land drifts
Deeper into the sea.”
—From “Letter to the Void (June 2024)”