The days pass by so fast. We live, we love, we suffer, we die. I struggle to find the meaning in it.
I love my children with all my heart. They are what’s most important in my life. But somedays I ask myself if it was selfish to bring them into this world. Life can be so painful, so unforgiving. Why did I choose to expose them to all this hardship? Did I want them to have the opportunity to live a meaningful life and make the world a better place? Or are they here because I wanted to bring meaning to my life? I struggle to answer these questions.
One thing I know is that I want my children to feel loved and supported for who they are. I want them to love themselves for who they are. I want them to do what makes them feel fulfilled and happy.
I’m a good person. I love my family and I provide for them. I love my friends. I live by the golden rule as best I can.
But I don’t always love myself.
Oftentimes I feel undeserving of love. I feel unworthy. I feel so much shame about not being better or kinder or more interesting or successful than I am.
Every day I struggle to find meaning, but I also believe that finding meaning starts with truly loving oneself, with being kind and patient with oneself.
I’ve been working on this. I’ve been digging deep and trying to love myself for exactly who I am.
For when I feel love, I feel meaning. I feel connected. I feel hope. Hope for myself, hope for my loved ones, hope for the world. I feel hope that my children will find meaning in this life.