Why Is Being Kind to Myself so Hard

You know, when I’m feeling sorry for myself (we’re allowed to sometimes, people) or I’m having a mini-breakdown about *insert issue here*, I turn to my loved ones and expect them to be there for me, to be kind, to toot my horn for me and make me feel better; but, I hardly do that on my own for myself.

I’m pegged by most as being independent and head-strong, as someone who doesn’t stand for a lot of nonsense, no matter who one is or how young or old the person is – a straight-talker when pushed to it. I’m also very “sensitive”; and I know that word has been thrown around as something that’s a bad thing – I know I’ve looked at myself and sneered at that part of me – but I’ve never stood up against that Negative Nancy in my own mind, and life is hard enough without showing a little kindness to yourself first.

How many times have I made myself to feel small by toning down the better parts of me – my good traits, my talents, my accomplishments – so that by the end of it all, I feel like I’m not good enough? Why is it so easy to dole out kind words and encouragement to the people who matter to us when we don’t do the same for ourselves?

If practising kindness towards yourself comes easy to you, I say: hell yeah! Also, can you please give me some advice? Because it doesn’t come easy to someone who’s been labelled a ‘Perfectionist’ throughout my life. I mean, hello: I used to use a ruler when in Cursive Writing class. Is that me tooting my own horn a little there? Why, la dee da.