When do we start hating ourselves? Judging ourselves for every little misstep? Is it around 11? Today I was reminded of how vibrant and unapologetically ME I was around 9-10. When do we become self conscious about what we say, what we wear?
When I was around 9, I was feisty. A force to be reckoned with. You did not mess with me. I WOULD chase you down on the playground and hit you with a shoe if you pushed me. When I did roller derby I think a little bit of that 9 year old firecracker came out. There was something so cathartic about being free to act out aggression in a bout.
This month I’m participating in a Self-Compassion workshop a mama friend is running. I thought it would be interesting to do some reflection before the workshop begins on what self-compassion is. So here goes!
According to Google self-compassion is: “Self-compassion entails being warm and understanding toward ourselves when we suffer, fail, or feel inadequate, rather than ignoring our pain or flagellating ourselves with self-criticism.”
Maybe part of self-compassion is being able to release some aggression. Turning outward to express something instead of retreating in to suppress feelings. When my chronic depression rears its ugly head I usually pull away from people and wallow in my own pain or sadness. I definitely lose all sight of self-compassion in those darker moments. I think there’s a connection between the freedom to express yourself we have as a child and giving self-compassion as an adult. This idea makes me think, when do we become more aware of society’s expectations? To act ladylike or behave a certain way? I would love to hear your thoughts, feel free to EXPRESS yourself in the comments.