I would be lying if I told you that I didn’t miss the collagen in my skin, or the ability to abuse my body through an entire weekend, only to bounce back, fresh faced and ready for a week of work on a Monday morning.
The tradeoff for the self-acceptance that has come with the decades, however, has been revolutionary. I wouldn’t take it back for the world- not even for that elastic skin and boundless energy.
I felt the initial shift when I turned 30. There was a renewed sense on not giving as many fucks, and it was illuminating. Let me clarify- I started to give fewer fucks about what other people thought about me- about the judgement they had about me or what I was doing, saying, the decisions I was making.
I had begun to develop a sense of self that I didn’t have when I was younger. I began to value my values, and was learning to listen to my own needs even if they flew in the face of other people’s preferences and expectations.
At 43, I still struggle every day to push past the insecurities that are always bubbling just below the surface. But when I reflect on how far I’ve come from my teens and twenties, I am so grateful for the trust I have developed in myself that helps me prioritize the things I deem important for my happiness.
But even still, I talk too much. I have crippling self-doubt and insecurity. I am desperate for external validation. I interrupt people. I get on my soap box on a daily basis. I slip too easily into a scarcity mindset. I am overbearing and have weird issues with money because of that scarcity mindset. I am codependent.
These are personality traits that I’m not proud of, but I am at least able to accept and own them now that I am older. Having the capacity to admit these shortcomings has allowed me to learn strategies to manage these attributes and give myself grace while I learn how to navigate them when they push past the defenses I’ve been so diligent about building.
This self-acceptance reframes my story in a way that allows me to grow. Acknowledging these quirks shows me that I am not a flawed human for having these traits, but merely a person with some characteristics that require a little more attention and intention.
We often hold beliefs about who we are and the kinds of qualities we have, so when these less than ideal attributes emerge, we reject them because they don’t fit into the framework of our idea of self.
It is not sexy to be insecure. It is not admirable to be codependent. And my need for accolades certainly doesn’t match my belief that I am a strong, independent woman.
My younger self was unwilling to admit these unflattering personality quirks, as if not owning up to them made them less real. But when the same patterns continue to emerge, and we continue to refuse to acknowledge them, they cause rifts- not only within ourselves, but with the people around us. It becomes the elephant in the room- the thing everyone knows but can’t talk about.
This distance can destroys friendships and cleave families.
We all have elements of our personalities that we might not love, or even flat out hate. But when we can face them, even learn to embrace them, it opens up opportunities to rewrite the narrative.
A strange side-effect of owning your weaknesses is sometimes learning they are imagined. On more than one occasion I’ve shared my hatred for one of my many quirks, only to learn that the very characteristic I’ve criticized about myself is not something others have ever noticed.
It’s fascinating what our minds are capable of persuading us to believe.
While I know in my heart that the friendships I had in my younger years were valid and honest bonds, the value I place in the friendships I have now are undeniable. I am acutely aware of the qualities I seek out in friends and have no interest in making space or time for people where there is no substance in what we offer one another.
I have very high standards for the people that surround me, and while I’ve gained a reputation for being ‘cut throat’ in my friendships, I accept that. It’s not a flattering quality, but I am also not ashamed that I’m known for having no interest in keeping friends where we do not love, value and inspire one another.
Celebrating our strengths and accepting even our worst tendencies fosters our ability to shift and adapt. It illuminates the capacity for growth and improvement, the ability to change ourselves and our situations.
While I’ve not yet learned to love the grey hairs that are cropping up at an ever-increasing speed on my head, I am thankful to be able to vocalize to myself and others when I’m drowning in a spiral of self-doubt or scarcity. Being able to recognize when I’m slipping into my least favorite traits allows me to throw all my self-care weapons at the situation to help pull me out before I sink too far.
I am also grateful to be able to laugh at myself with my husband or friends when I’m exhibiting my most frantic and illogical money saving tactics, and alluding to divorce over the cost of fancy butter.
