Self Love Is All Love

December 2018, I had a profound realization that I do love myself. Maybe it was the psychedelic mushrooms coursing through my blood stream, or maybe that feeling I waited my whole life for was true in that moment. I thought to myself, as the tears slid down my cheeks and the vibrations of feeling fully radiated off of my skull, is this what it feels like to love myself?

As a child, I loved myself until society got to me. Prior to grade school I always had this feeling inside of me that I knew the human experience was a trip and "whoa am I really looking at this" feelings. Information, words, colors, visuals, breathing, laughing, and anything that came into contact with me tripped me the fuck out. I was fearless... My mother still tells the story of me throwing myself over my bed, landing on my feet, and immediately running out of my room until she caught me. She blamed my brother for not locking the bed and he swore he did. He did, I did not want to be locked up. I wanted freedom to run around and act crazy because I was so intrigued by the little girl looking back at me in the mirror. I would sit in the mirror and make faces at myself until I laughed so hard that I could not breathe. Innocence was my best friend, I knew how to create and be without having someone interrupt me.

My first day of school is something I will never forget. I was scared, looking around at all the faces and objects on the wall. My teacher looked like a cartoon character, she had really big hips and I imagined music playing as she walked down the isles between our desks. I was happy to be in school, until my first bullying experience happened. A girl pushed me down and trampled me... she said my hair looked like poop. I remember going home that day and when I looked in the mirror, I saw a different person. I started feeling hate for that person I saw. I would pick at her and say mean things to her until she believed it. "You are nothing" ,"You are no one", "You are ugly."

I started losing my focus in school. I started fearing for my safety and I did not want to tell my parents what was going on. My grades started changing. I would eat by myself in the cafeteria and during recess I hid under the stairs until it was time to go in. 3rd grade was the most humiliating year of my life as a child. My teacher had it out for me and to this day I am not sure why. Because of my fears in school, I had trouble reading and focusing on my school subjects. The hateful words directed at me and I created for myself, clogged my mind that no other information could get in. Mrs. Presley, wanted to humiliate me. She wanted to prove to my mother that I needed to be on medication, and she would antagonize/bully me with my other class mates. She told my mother things and I told my mother how Mrs. Presley treated me. My mother did not believe me and the feelings of self hatred got thicker, heavier, and unbearable.

Mrs Presley said, "Blair, stand in front of the classroom and read."

I saw white. She knew I could not read and she asked me instead of the other students that excelled at reading. I got up, slowly walked to the front, looked at the chalkboard for a few minutes before she screamed, "Turn around and read to the class!"

I turned slowly, making sure not to make eye contact with anyone, I raised the book eye level so it could cover my face. Every one waited for me to say something. I was frozen, humiliated, ashamed, and stuck. The room was so silent, my tears could be heard splashing onto the floor where I stood. One of my classmates got up and stood next to me to help me read the passage I was told to read. I thought she was brave for helping me, and it made me feel somewhat better given the circumstance.

"Sit down," Mrs. Presley said to both of us.

I went to the bathroom to wash my face. A few classmate walk in, ask me if I am okay, I said, "I do not know why I am being treated this way. Mrs. Presley is so mean to me and I hate her."

I returned to class and Mrs. Presley asked everyone to leave the classroom but me.

She says, "It has been brought to my attention that you said I am a fucking bitch."

Me "What? what does that mean?"

I had no idea what cuss words were at the time and she said, "Your classmate said in the bathroom you think I am a fucking bitch."

"I did not say that."

She walked toward the door, asked everyone to come inside, and makes the statement.

"If everyone in the class room can tell me something bad Blair Welcome said about me, you can all go to recess."

My stomach started hurting as I watched words being scribbled across the sheets of blue paper in front of my classmates because out of everything my teacher said I know the word "recess" stuck out the most for my peers. The room, chaotic from footsteps running past me and out the door to the playground until silence filled the room and the only sound I could hear was Mrs. Presley's breath. She pulled out the chair from her desk, the chair scraping the floor echoed through the class room. One by one she read the word of my classmates of the papers she handed to them. Most of the students copied off each other, because as she read to me I heard the same word repeated. She stood up, walked over to me and asked me why I would say those things about her.

Me: "I didn't say those things about you."

She got close to my face and screamed, "STOP LYING TO ME."

Spit from her mouth and the words hit my face like a mask. I knew she would not believe me no matter how much I told her I did not do it. I sat in my chair shaking, confused, hurt, and so scared to ask her if I could use the bathroom that I peed on myself . Life in her classroom got harder everyday. It went from having a desk in the class room, to having a desk facing her desk, to finally standing up in her classroom and not being allowed to sit down. I lost hope for people. I started feeling I should not exist if the world operates like this. Terrified, pariah, lonely, bullied. What is this?

School did not get easier, home life was a mess, I started physically changing in appearance. Middle school was difficult because I was one of three black kids in my school of a christian private school. Words like "some of your people will get into heaven", "at least I am not black like you", and "you cant sit with us because you are black," hurt me everyday until I left that school for good.

High School was the same. I had one maybe two friends, I ate alone, I did not fit into any social groups, and I would look around at every person and wondered why they got what they got and I got the short end of the stick. Hate formed in my heart for myself. I had been abused by my father, classmates, teachers, and myself. I wanted to die. I wanted to go back to the time when I was so full of love when I looked at myself in the mirror, or die.

Relationships fell through, I was abusive and mean. If my partner did not give me attention, I would lash out with my words and hands. I hated who I was becoming. I hated that I felt left out and alone. All I wanted was love, and I searched for it outside of my self until I realized it does not work that way. I had to forgive myself, I had to look at myself in a mirror without judging myself and I had to talk about all the secrets that held me hostage and consumed me.

I was 23 years old when I chose to live. Prior to my choice, I met a man that looked at me and said he knew I could be better if I had the guidance to understand why I had chosen to be a victim of my circumstances. At first I wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, instead, I chose to listen and understand why this man, who had no idea who I was, could see me for me and it scared me. The masks that I wore for so long could not hide me any longer. It took one person to change my perspective on my life and accept the world around me. I walked through the doors of the training room not knowing what to expect. I could see a lot of people around me were emotional. We all hoped we could figure out what it takes to get out of our own way. I looked at 100 people surrounding me and saw they were exactly like me. Separation is an illusion. I could see myself in every race, creed, and sexual orientation in the room. We all wanted the same thing: LOVE. I chose to be heard, I chose to not listen to my fears and stand for my self, knowing that in return, I was standing for every person in that room that felt like they lost their voice. Part two of the training broke down the walls of all limiting beliefs I held against myself. I got to speak about my childhood trauma and do exercises to release the pain. I felt lighter. I saw myself slowly believing in myself. In the mirror, my skin was brighter, my posture was straighter, I lost weight, I saw Blair.

In 2015 I attended a music festival yoga class that forever changed my views of myself. The instructor guided us with a story about a goddess that was covered from head to toe in jewelry, and clothes. She kept meeting with a god Nedi. Each time they met, he asked her to remove something from her person. As the instructor guided us, she asked us to do the same. There was a moment when she reached for my hat to take it off me and I freaked out. The conversation I had about my hair controlled me. The haunting words and comments from people about my hair filled my mind as I lay in shavasana. I chose to not let words about me control me, I chose to not be my hair, and the day I arrived home from the airport, I drove to the barber shop and said "cut it off." Later into the year I had the opportunity to do ayahuasca, and although the experience was profound, I still felt that I did not love myself fully.

In 2016 I moved to Wyoming to work a seasonal job on a ranch, and let me tell you the "fly in the buttermilk" is a real thing. I had people that did not know how to respond to me. Two years in a row I dealt with people not wanting to interact with me, but thinking it was okay to say "nigga" around me. HR did nothing about it, my bosses pretended I was delusional, and I chose to not come back for work the following years. 2016 was special after all, because I got to meet a woman that showed me no matter where you come from or what happens to you, it is your life so take it and express. Courtney is deaf and I forced myself to learn sign language because I wanted to talk with her. I needed to talk with her. I felt in my flow when we had conversations. I felt she got me more than anyone in my life. I started to feel again. The ebb and flow of self love has been a huge part of my life. Even in moments that I feel I deserve to be loved, I found ways to prove myself wrong.

2018 was a memorable year for me. A lot of shit was slung my way and I created a lot of it too. There were very few people in my life that I feel I could trust and the people I did, I held onto them for support and they were always there. In December, Courtney and I decided to take mushrooms and at one point we agreed to go outside because our energies could not be contained in the walls of our home. We walked around the neighborhood. We joked and laughed pushing each other into the streets, looked at the Christmas lights in the neighborhood, and walked in the darkness. We came home and sat on the couch in the living room while we talked out our thoughts to each other I got it. I understood. The feeling I waited for without any doubts came out of my mouth, 'I love myself.' There was no question.

"I love myself," I said it again, "I love myself."

Tears of joy rolled down my face and laughter rose from my belly and out of my mouth.

"I love myself, I love myself, I LOVE MYSELF."

I finally understood for all the years I searched for my love, she had been waiting for me. Always waiting, not giving up on me, and present the moment I let her in. I wanted love from outside of myself to feel worthy, good enough, smart enough, pretty, enough. Even though I would say "I love myself" there was a part of me that had doubts and felt I was lying to myself. On this day I felt it fully, It's an indescribable feeling and I have not been the same since. I cannot believe that was six months ago.

When I see myself I see you. When I love myself, I can love others. I love the human I am, I love the woman I am, I love the friend I am, I love the sister I am, I love the aunt I am, I love the creative and sophisticated being I am, I love my voice, I love my muscles, I love my body, heart, mind, and soul, I love my spirit, I love the gap between my teeth, I love my hair, I love my eyes, I love my nose, I love my lips, I love my wit, I love my intelligence, I love my style, I love my laugh, I love me. I love you Blair Felicia Welcome. I love you forever.