How to love yourself
Vanity or self-esteem—which is which?
“Vanity has been the side effect of my exercise regime,” I typed, adding a few laughing emojis for good measure, “but it feels sooooooo nice to like what's looking back at you from the mirror. Never had that before.”
My friend’s reply was instantaneous: “I think loving yourself and how you look is nothing wrong.”
I was about to provide another glib justification for my newfound obsession with mirrors, and my friend’s words stopped me dead. Can it be that looking at my reflection—an act of vanity society tells us to refrain from—is actually a form of self-love?
Have I been unnecessarily chastising myself all these months?
“Magic mirror on the wall, who's the fairest one of all?”
I’ve always been vain, an unfortunate side effect of achieving heady success early in life. GPA 4.00 (the perfect score) through twelve years of schooling, frequent medalist at inter-school contests of various skills not all of which useful (case in point: how to correctly curtsy to different levels of royalty), Thailand’s representative (aged 15) to a Red Cross Youth conference in Japan, prestigious scholarship to study in the UK, a place at Oxford University… The first twenty years of my life were a series of accomplishments, each one more dazzling than the last.
I knew I was good at many things, and I was never shy to flaunt my talents.
The one thing I was never happy with, though, was my looks. I was a chubby teenager, and before that a chubby child. A well-meaning adult once surmised water was the culprit—I doth hydrate too much—but more likely it was the tubes of Oreo’s I binge-ate while illicitly copying answers from the back of exercise books so I wouldn’t have to do them.
Apart from brief periods when I was manic,1 I’d always been overweight. The mirror was my mortal enemy. I’d steel myself to look and see reflected back my protruding tummy, my fleshy legs, my flabby arms. I liked my face well enough, but I’d always hated the rest of my body. Whatever diet I put myself on, I could never lose the flab. And then I was hospitalised after a disturbing manic episode and gained so much weight on delicious hospital fare2 that, when released, I was the heaviest I’d ever been.
When I discovered weight training and began slimming down after committing to an effective exercise regime and a sensible diet,3 I was more shocked than anyone to see a different me in the mirror, a leaner, more muscular me.
I fell in love with this new me. Whenever I spied a mirror, I would steal a glance. I became obsessed, and ashamed—each time chiding myself: you’re being vain, stop it.
Vanity… or self-esteem?
For the first time in my life, I liked what I saw in the mirror. I felt pride where once there was only disdain. I had a whole new body, and it was all down to me—all those 9am workout classes and skipped snacks had beautifully paid off, literally.
But this joy was tinged with shame. I was ashamed that I had become so vain, so obsessed with my appearance. Until I read my friend’s words:
I think loving yourself and how you look is nothing wrong.
I had always associated admiring yourself with vanity. Catching your reflection in the mirror was an unequivocally bad thing. It had never, ever crossed my mind that this could be a form of self-love, a good thing to indulge in, even encourage.
The more I replayed my friend’s words, the more I began to believe them. I used to hate my body. Now I love it. How can that not be a good thing? Maybe what I’m calling vanity is in fact self-esteem? But how can I tell which is which?
When does one’s nourishing self-esteem become prideful vanity? When does validating self-love become toxic self-indulgence? If what I felt towards my childhood accolades was vanity and my current obsession with my new body is self-esteem, what criteria am I using to distinguish one from the other?
How do we love ourselves such that our love doesn’t poison us in the process?
If working out at the gym three times a week is an act of self-love, is admiring your body whenever you spy a mirror also one? If celebrating a win at work with a quiet glass of wine is an act of self-love, can we say the same for recounting all your professional accomplishments to someone you just met at a networking event? If the occasional spa day is an act of self-love, what about the occasional whole chocolate cake with glazed cherries on top?
How do we draw these—dare I say arbitrary—distinctions so we can live a happy, healthy life and not piss off all our friends?
If you’re expecting an answer, I’m sorry to disappoint. I’ve been racking my brains for a week and nothing coherent has emerged from my apparently inadequate pool of wisdom.
But I can tell you this: these days, I no longer tell myself off when I look in the mirror. Instead, I smile and congratulate myself: Well done. This mini self-esteem boost then motivates me to keep returning to the gym for those 9am workouts, and to not order that whole cake with glazed cherries on top every time I have a chocolate craving.4
What do you think?
You know it’s coming:
How do we love ourselves in a non-toxic way?
Is there good and bad self-love? When does self-esteem become vanity? Why is the world round? Please hit “reply” or leave a comment—I read every response and I’d love to hear from you. If you want, share this with someone who might just know the answer.
Until next Friday… Stay thoughtful,
Val
Photo by Caroline Veronez on Unsplash
A very effective way to lose weight. I don’t recommend it.
Hands down some of the best food I’ve ever eaten. But I won’t be going back for more.
Which was easier than you’d think. Exercise and good diet tend to go hand in hand. When you’re working out, you’re less tempted by all the crap masquerading as food lest you undo all your good work in the gym.
Unless it’s my birthday, in which case it’s whole cakes all the way babeh.
I think there is good and bad self-love, but I couldn't draw a line in the sand to show you where the borders lie! I also don't know if self-esteem can become vanity - although I suspect not if your self-love is just for you.
But how do we love ourselves in a non-toxic way? That I can answer. At least for myself! I love myself most when I do things for others. Small things like helping someone with a heavy bag or helping lift a pram up/down a flight of stairs. Is it completely selfless if it makes me happy? Pedantic philosophers would probably say it's not. But is it a toxic dopamine boost? No. At least not for me.
So I guess to answer that question. Love yourself for what you can do for others.