How to Get Flat Abs, Have Amazing Sex and Rule the World in 8 Easy Steps
is Stop Believing Your Bullshit.
Kate Bartolotta put it this way:
All that stuff you tell yourself about how you are a commitment-phobe or a coward or lazy or not creative or unlucky? Stop it. It’s bullshit, and deep down you know it. We are all insecure 14-year-olds at heart. We’re all scared. We all have dreams inside of us that we’ve tucked away because somewhere along the line we tacked on those ideas about who we are that buried that essential brilliant, child-like sense of wonder. The more we stick to these scripts about who we are, the longer we live a fraction of the life we could be living. Let it go. Be who you are beneath the bullshit.
Stop listening to that Scared Little Bitch inside of you and start listening to the Confident Believer. They're like the devil and angel riding on your shoulders, but instead of pressuring you to do good things or wicked things, one is bullying you to feel horrible about yourself, making you doubt yourself, and the other one is cheering you on, making you believe in yourself.
Or as these Fabulous Ladies say, you have your Bad Wolf and you have your Good Wolf (scroll down or search the categories; you'll find it).
So what is my Bullshit that I have to stop believing?
On the days that I really hate myself, the SLB changes the lyrics so that all I hear is Bif Naked's voice screaming "I hate myself today," and then she tells me that I'm fat, lazy, stupid, a horrible mother, ugly, socially inept, a terrible wife, a neglectful friend, incapable of dealing with life's little bumps, and that I don't deserve to be happy, I don't deserve to have time for myself, and that my life is just too hard and I'm too tired, so I should just cry all the time.
First of all, my life isn't that hard, so get over it.
As Kate B says:
You are alive.
I need to stop listening to my SLB and I need to stop believing everything she says. I have to let my CB be stronger, and let her speak in a louder voice; I need to stop muzzling her, no matter how insistent the SLB is about it.
I'm not fat. Okay, I'll be realistic and I'll admit that I need to get more exercise, but it's not because I want to look like a porn star; rather, I'd like to be fit and healthy--I'm in my late thirties and my kids are three and under; being around for them and being able to do things with them is pretty important. And since I'm physically able to exercise, I don't really have a good enough excuse not too. I mean, if Arthur Boorman can change his life, after being told by almost everybody that there wasn't any hope for him, WTF is my excuse, SLB? I have to start believing that no matter how tired I am, exercise will make me feel better (and it does--I know it does--so again, WTF?).
I'm not lazy. I'm not super-type-A-with-lots-of-energy, at least not every day, but I accept who I am in regards to how much I get done. This is where my Bad Wolf needs to shut up about how much housework I'm not getting done, and the Good Wolf needs to say, "Meh, that laundry will still be there tomorrow; go play with your kids."
I'm not stupid. Sometimes I have moments that speak otherwise, but I'm really smart. Sometimes I'm really tired, so I'll do stupid things, but at least I learn from my mistakes. Or try to get some sleep.
I'm not a horrible mother, a terrible wife, or a neglectful friend. My kids are happy and they love me, my husband is happy and he loves me, and my friends love me--and sometimes we aren't too busy to do more than just talk on the phone.
I'm not ugly. So shut the fuck up, Bitch. You are no longer allowed to be around when I'm looking in a mirror. Believer, start talking louder!
I'm not socially inept. I'm shy. And, sometimes, the Brain-to-Mouth Filter is missing, or completely clogged, or part of the thought gets side-tracked on the way down, and what comes out doesn't sound at all like what I wanted it to. I need to believe in myself more when I'm in a group situation.
I am capable of handling life's little bumps. Sure, it's easier to do when I'm rested and well fed, but I can do it. My phone got shattered this week. Shattered. By a dog and a chicken pot pie. Not my dog. The pie was for my friend. Yep, it was her dog. I did not once get upset. Until I learned that when they fix it, they're going to wipe everything. I'll lose all of my pictures and contacts. I hated myself for sending the phone out for repair instead of getting a new screen myself (I didn't know you could). "I'm going to lose all of those pictures of the kids, waa." Then I said, "I still have my kids," and I felt better. It's just one of those things, and so long as I learn what I need to (back up your smartphone regularly, don't carry your phone on top of a pie when a dog is really happy to see you), it's all good.
I do deserve to have time for myself. It refreshes me, and I'm a lot more patient with my kids. I do deserve, therefore, to take some time to write everyday; I shouldn't have to feel guilty about this pleasure. So if I feel like I'm getting snippy and overwhelmed, it's okay for me to do something for myself (even if it's just reading a nice fluffy book while my kids watch BabyTv or TreeHouse).
Most importantly, I do deserve to be happy. Not happy because my life is perfect, but happy because I just am (I think this is step #2, so more on it later).
I'm sure that some days I'll need to have a good little cry, but I find that that gets rid of a lot of negative shit, and it makes room for all the good stuff. It's like taking all of the boxes of Negative Reinforcements that the Scared Little Bitch has filed away over the years, and shredding them, and making room for the great artwork that my Confident Believer is creating in my life.
Now if you all will excuse me, I'm going to go dig up some Bif Naked and I'm going to rock it.
Because "I Love Myself Today."