Have you ever heard someone say that living well is the best revenge? Sometimes when I share feelings, particularly anger or sadness around things from the past, people feel it their duty to remind me that I must “prove them wrong”. That I must somehow prove to these people from my past, who rejected me for not measuring up to their ideals, that I am a worthwhile, amazing, human being. I call bullshit on this. I don’t need to prove anything to anyone. Why would I strive to prove something to someone whose love is conditional on my being or acting a certain way? What makes me think that I owe them anything?
And then, there’s the other half of that statement. People then go on to say, “And you have to prove it to yourself.” Prove what? And to who? Who is this self that requires proof? And why does this self not love me just as I am?
Is it possible that unconditional love starts from within and the rest doesn’t matter? Is there a place within us that is so accepting and loving that nothing the world or even our own mind inflicts on us can shake it? I feel this place in my soul. I sense its presence. It is quiet. It is still. It is.