One of the most profound moments in my life, was when I realized I didn’t understand the practice of loving. Sure, I loved with intention—but in life, we learn to judge things by the impact they have. The understanding of love that I had was attached to my ideas of masculinity. It was performative, rehearsed, and fear-based.
Like most men who are strong enough to admit, at one point, low-self esteem and fear of abandonment—or some other manifestation of fear—accompanied me on my journey to self-mastery. If you’ve ever struggled with these two, you know they feed off of each other growing bigger and heavier as they interact. It’s like a competition of “which can weigh you down the most” exists between them. My outlook was outward, and my perspective was: “What is "their" perception of me?” In searching for answers to this question, I often found myself acting in ways that were contradictory and detrimental to Self. I was angry. In the Will to Change, author bell hooks put me on blast when she states, “Anger can be, and usually is, the hiding place for fear and pain.” Naming the fear was quickly done, but the immense pain I felt was hard to identify.
The difficulty came as a result of my outward gaze—it was a result of my refusal to look within. A single word in my former question made all the difference; I sought to solve the most terrible problem possible, "What is my perception of me?"
There's a Paul Laurence Dunbar poem, "We Wear The Mask," that begins "We wear the mask that grins and lies, It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes."
Later, it continues:
Why should the world be over-wise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while
We wear the mask.
The pain was residual due to years of self-mutilating behaviors. When you don "the mask" and begin your performance, the line that separates the actor from the character slowly starts to fade. You no longer act on behalf of Self, now, the satisfaction of your audience drives your actions. You find yourself sad, mad, and depressed because you feel no one sees you—but the truth is, you don't see yourself.
Fun Fact: Take a moment to realize that you have never seen your face in person, just reflections, and pictures. Some scientists agree that if you saw a clone of yourself, you wouldn't recognize it as you because our idea of what we look like (from pictures and reflections) is different from reality.
Even when we rely on someone else's opinion of how we look, it is still a reflection—an inaccurate one at that. As humans, we do not see a direct representation of external reality, but a reflection formed by our mind and eyes.
Thus, I surmise that the only real way of seeing one's self is to look within. I had to understand that while I am flesh and bones, my reality exists in a place that is not seen—only felt. We are energetic beings that emit light, and our feelings and emotions heighten our sensitivity to this reality. By asking the question, "What is my perception of me?" I was able to explore the feelings I had for myself and the emotions that arose because of those feelings. It was new terrain, with self-discovery as its reward.
As I began to see through my mind's eye, feel, and rediscover Self, those annoying companions became smaller and lighter. Eventually, I mustered enough strength to let them go. My understanding and practice of love began to change. Patriarchy said, "men gain love and value by what they do." It demands that we don the mask and begin acting.
"I give myself because you are," says Love.
Our mere existence grants us the right to be loved and cherished. When you begin the journey of self-discovery and mastery, you will learn to love the rough edges of your being and work to smooth them out. Being connected to this endless source, you no longer wait for acceptance or validation from anyone else. You become aligned with your purpose, and the Universe responds because of your intentions and effort. You begin to flow. You make self-love priority because without it you cannot honestly love another.
Loving becomes an act of freedom. You acknowledge someone else's existence and respect their autonomy. You practice from a place of abundance. You're honest. You're light. You have integrity. You trust yourself. Most of all, it feels good.
Take it from me; self-love is the best love. It's free.