Self Pep Talks

 

Okay ladies, let's get real. Like, really real. No bullshit kind of chit chat. Intimate and without walls is our style around here - hopefully it's yours too. If not, that's cool as well. The reason I say all of this is because there's often times an invisible barrier around what we as women get to talk about. Whether that's publicly or with our groups of gal pals, there can often times be these BS expectations around our conversations. They can't be too much of this, they have to contain a little bit of that, blah blah blah. Something we want to get out of our heads, our words and our creative expressions is the idea some of us have that is; to be a strong woman, we cannot talk about the parts of ourselves that sometimes feel like weaknesses. False. To break it down - we all have days or moments where we feel like shit; be that physically, mentally or emotionally. Don't deny it. Don't start thinking about these shit times and get all down on yourself - but just recognise it and remember that it is indeed a part of being human. Talking about our issues in a way that doesn't dwell on them and force us to unpack and live with them can be healthy. It connects us to one another remembering that we all feel things and experience things, and often that can be the tough things. I don't believe there's a single person out there who feels fan-fucking-tastic every second of every day. And if there is - holla. Because A.) You're probably not even a human and most likely a robot, or B.) You live on a hippie commune and prance around in sunflower fields naked all day, in which case I may want to join you. So, now that we're all on the same page and we've determined that not everyday is blue skies and rainbows shooting from our asses - we can get down to it. I'll start by speaking from experience, and promise not to leave out the embarrassing bits. This is a guaranteed promise from us, always.

It was a hella hot day in Sydney. The city was bumpin' with people out and about. I had just finished a barre class and was making my way home. I was hustlin' my way through crowds of people when all of a sudden that great friend called SELF DOUBT appeared and decided to join the party inside my head. I'm usually pretty good at slamming the door in its face, but for some reason or another I thought it might be a good idea to invite said friend in for a drink. They did say they were extremely parched after all. (Reminder to future self: this little bastard lies.) So there I was, battling the monster. It started to chuck questions at me like, "Why would you think it was a good idea to eat four pieces of bread yesterday?" Because I am forever obsessed with avocado on toast! Lay off yo! Then it turned ugly and started the comparison game. Which in my opinion is the lamest game of them all. My mind started breaking myself down and slicing a small hole into the balloon of my self worth, slowly letting the good stuff seep on out. Why does that girl have the most muscular calves of all time? Look at that girls outfit, it's so damn on point. This went on and on. It was utterly exhausting and pointless. 

I caught my reflection in a storefront window and noticed the sheen of sweat that glazed over all of my skin. Now, to be clear - I absolutely love sweat. I am obsessed with sweating. I will crave it and take myself to a sweltering hot yoga class in order to drip liquid from all my pores. But today, my mind started vibing in the opposite direction. The first thing I related my reflection to you ask? A mother sow laying in the sun; glistening and shiny AF. Yup. A pig. COOL. That was the tipping point when I decided that enough was enough. Because when I realised I just compared myself to a giant pink animal - you find a way to get the fuck out of there. I also really genuinely adore piggies - so I wanted them to stay in my good books. Anyways, this is where the holy grail of SELF LOVE comes and makes an appearance. In proper style, she likes to keep us all on our toes and mixes up when she arrives to the party each time. She's good at testing our inner Yonce to see if it can step in and chuck fierceness all over the place. But self love is real good at knowing when it's time to sweep in and save the day. When I had stated that self doubt was my least welcome party guest, well self love is by far the favourite. It is not boastful or self obsessed. It is a kind and powerful reminder of ones own worth. It comes through loud and clear in this moment, really helping a sister out - kicking down walls and popping champagne. 

Self pep talks are one of my go to practices. I most likely look like an absolute nutcase when I give myself them, but I give zero fucks. I'll give them to my best friends when they aren't totally feeling themselves. Hell I'll give them to stranger if they asked me too. It's pretty simple, and results are pretty spectacular. It goes a little something like this: Take some deep breaths. Get still and feel them move through your body. Realise how super stellar it is to be alive and feeling this. (That right there might even be enough to feel good as gold again). Then just start loving the hell out of yourself. Scream inside your head (or fuck it and scream it out loud!) that you are a badass woman who is strong and smart and beautiful. Remind yourself that comparison really is the thief of joy. So kick it to the curb and hang out with acceptance instead. You get shit done - and are passionate and inspiring. You love with your whole heart and are loved in return. It doesn't matter that you look like an oily farm animal. You actually do really fucking rule, like all the damn time. Even if you eat half a loaf of sourdough bread, or woke up with a gnarly pimple on your face. Remind yourself that there's only one you on this whole planet, and if that's not pretty damn dope I don't know what is. 

I wiped my glistening brow and could almost hear my now happy little sweat beads screaming Yah! Hoorah! Thanks babe! You love us again! I stood up tall and I clicked my heels together, and strutted on. My mind was feeling fresh again and decided to hit me with one last goodness bomb. I started to think about a talk I watched Oprah do where she touched on the absolute fact that we each only have an undetermined and precious amount of time here and to do all that we can not to waste it. Thanks O - endless shoutouts to you. So I said to myself, "Love the living daylights out of yourself and love the living daylights out of every person you ever feel comparison too. Your mind is way too vast and magnificent to spent time serving drinks to shitty guests at your own party." 

- Molly

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