âThe way you treat yourself sets the standard for others.â ~Sonya Friedman
Iâd had enough.
Once again, Iâd sent follow-up emails to guys who had shown interest in my dating site profile. Once again, Iâd included full-length photos with those emails, unlike the headshot that went along with my online profile.
And once again, days later, my inbox was a virtual ghost town.
Didnât these guys know how much courage it took for me to set up a profile in the first place? I was twenty-six years old and been on fewer than a dozen dates in my lifeâincluding my senior prom, to which I took a freshman.
I was morbidly obese for most of my twenties and had only recently lost fifty pounds. I was still overweight but in better shape than Iâd been in years. And yet it still wasnât good enough.
As soon as these once-interested guys got past my witty, self-deprecating profile full of catchy phrases like âloves to cook,â âenjoys watching football,â and âcan quote The Godfatherâ and saw me head-to-toe, they remembered that it doesnât matter if a girl likes watching sports or can cook a mean Sunday dinnerâas long as sheâs âfit and athletic.â
My self-esteem was lower than low. This was just as bad as being ignored to my face in bars and at parties.
I felt like I had to apologize for the way I looked. âHey, sorry Iâm fat, but Iâm a really nice person! And Iâve spent a lot of time developing my sense of humor while the rest of you were out dating and stuff!â
Iâm not sure what finally flipped the switch inside my head, but I remember the date the switch got flipped: March 7, 2006.
Iâd had enough. I realized (somehow, for some reason) that I didnât have to apologize for anything about myself.
That there were plenty of girls who looked just like me and managed to find love on their own termsâwho managed to live life regardless of the voices in their head which tried to tell them they werenât allowed to.
I got mad, both at the world and at myself for wasting so much time feeling apologetic. Like I had to gratefully accept any little crumbs thrown my way.
So I went on a rant. And I took that rant to the bastion of all thatâs sketchy about the internet.
Yes, I went to Craigslist. Hey, why not? I had nothing to lose at this point.
I wish Iâd kept that rant because it was gold. I derided the nameless men who let me know without saying a word that I wasnât good enough once they got a look at the full package. I called it exactly as I saw it, with all the vitriol I could manage.
I then announced to all of the world that I wore a size 14/16, and that anyone who had a problem with that shouldnât bother wasting my time.
I listed the same qualities Iâd listed on my dating profile, and asked if my size really mattered in the face of all I had to offer. My humor, intelligence, hatred of reality TV, love of old timey movies, insanely huge music collection spanning six decades, mad cooking skillsâŠdid my size matter all that much, really?
I may even have referred to myself as âa catch.â I donât know, it all became a blur after a while.
And much to my surprise, my inbox exploded with responses. Many of them were immediately deletedâyou know, pictures of genitals and all that. (Craigslist will always be Craigslist.) Some were practically unintelligible, so I moved past them pretty quickly, too.
But one replyâŠone reply caught my eye.
The guy could spell and knew how to use punctuation. He seemed warm and friendly and smart, and appreciative of what I had to say. The fact that he liked to cook earned him points, too. (Ladies, I think we can all admit that we get a little swoony over a man who knows his way around the kitchenâmen, pay attention!)
I knew immediately that if nothing else, this guy and I would be friends. What I didnât know at the time was that I would marry him in September 2008.
See, I know now that the moment I decided to start treating myself like I was worth lovingâno apologies, no holds barredâwas the moment the Universe breathed a great big sigh of relief and said, âFinally.â
Thatâs when a man who’s called me beautiful every day since we first met found me. Things started clicking within minutes of me publishing that post.
For years I had assumed that everyone else saw me the way I saw myself: fat, unattractive, worthless. I know now just how deep my self-loathing went, and I wish I could go back and hug that old version of me.
That sort of thinking is a vicious cycleâthe worse you think you are, the more you cut yourself off from others, which makes you feel even worse than you did before.
All I had to do was change my mind about myself, about what I was worthy of, about what I was willing to accept from others.
Bonus: Because I was so utterly myselfâsnarky, sassy, smart, sarcasticâI attracted someone who likes those qualities and I never have to pretend to be any other way.
If youâre in a situation where you feel as though you have to change yourself in order to measure up, or like you have to put up with someone elseâs mess because you canât do any better (be it in a relationship or a job), change your mind.
Know that itâs just your insane, misguided ego trying to keep you small and quietâand thatâs understandable, because your ego wants to avoid going out on a limb and possibly being hurt.
But you absolutely have to ignore that fearful voice and start speaking and living your truth anyway. And as soon as you put yourself out there, your life will start to change.
This doesnât have to be anything on an epic scaleâno Lifetime movies-of-the-week here. It can just be something as small as posting a rant online, claiming your worth, and announcing that youâve had enough of feeling âless than.â
Maybe youâll simply start holding yourself to a higher standard when it comes to the way you talk about yourself and others.
And maybe that new way of talking about yourself will leak into the way you talk to yourself. You might actually start smiling when you see yourself in the mirror.
You might then start seeing all the ways youâre playing small in your life, and you might start making subtle shifts in how you handle things going forward.
Youâll stop putting yourself last. Youâll start speaking up when a situation doesnât feel right to you. Youâll stand a little stronger every day.
And the Universe will breathe a great big sigh of relief and say, âFinally.â
Photo by kris krĂŒg
About Jennifer Bardall
Jennifer Bardall believes that life is best lived on purpose. Her book, Delicious, describes her battle with emotional binge eating and encourages others to put down the fork and pick up their life.