A Year With Myself, Everything Miz Meliz

Truth is Essential

Ronna Detrick says, “Self-love is something we hear about all the time. And we feel pressure to do it—all the time, perfectly, proficiently. But pressure is not consistent with self-love, whether self- or other-imposed. Rather, it comes through grace—and permission, time and patience.”

“Love is patient, love is kind… It keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.” (from 1 Corinthians 13).

As Ronna puts it, “These are the nourishment and sustenance of ever-growing self-acceptance and self-love; of telling and living your truth.”

These unedited, uncensored words and feelings are my truth:

I will take time to practice grace. I give myself the permission to live my truth. I give myself the time. I have all the time in the world. I will be patient with myself.

If I extended myself endless patience and kindness, I would feel calm and totally free.  I could do no wrong!  There would be no clock timing me. No deadlines. No worries or concerns.

I would never ask myself, “Am I doing the right thing?”  or “Do I even know what I am talking about?”  I would never be hard on myself or feel badly about what I am doing or not doing.

It wouldn’t bother me that the dishes and laundry pile up.  I wouldn’t stress about how the bills are going to get paid.  Or, if I need to exercise more or watch my diet.

I don’t know if I could handle just gliding through life that way!  Would it seem like I had no cares at all? No, because I do care.  Caring about these things makes me me!

Endless patience.  That means no limits and no constraints.  Just time.  All the time in the world.  All the “eventuallys” would slip away and become “whens” rather than “if I evers”.

Endless patience.  That means having faith that it will be.  Just knowing it will be.  Trusting myself that it will be.

And Kindness.  Instead of putting restrictions on myself and feeling bad and guilty, I would just be kind, understanding and loving to myself.

It really boils down having faith in myself and trusting that I am responsible and I will be what I need to be and do what I need to do when it counts.

If I were to let go of my internal record-keeping, the laundry list of all that I’ve done wrong, and all the places in which I feel inferior, sub-par, or less-than, I would feel happy with the way I am.

I like myself.  I honestly do like myself and I think I am great!  I am great!

If I could let go of the feeling that I need everyone to agree with me, I would breathe easier and be happy.  If I could stop harping on past mistakes and just keep on keeping on, rise above the misperceptions and not take things personally, learn from the errors and make adjustments and absorb the rest, I could breathe freely and rest peacefully.

If I were to be ever-so still and listen for my own internal voice, the one that existed before the irritating ones took over, I would hear these words:

You are who you are Melissa.  You are beautiful and kind.  You care about others.  You love your family.  You are smart and talented.  You make things happen.  You are special and sweet.  All that matters is that you remain true to yourself.  Take care of yourself.  Enrich your spirit and feed your soul.  Live all the moments of your life.  Be.  Do.  Love.  Lift yourself up.  Stay strong in the knowing.

If I were to do whatever I wanted, whatever I felt—no ramifications or risks —I would stop working.  I would make my home beautiful.  I would walk.  I would write.  I would travel.  I would be with my loved ones.  I would have parties.  I would shop.  I would have fun.  I would laugh more.  I would drive.  I would eat out.  I would wear comfortable clothes.  I would sleep in.  I would stay up late.  I would drink and smoke.  I would get better at Scrabble.  I would go to the beach.

If I could say anything I wanted, whatever I felt – no ramifications or risks – I do not know if I would say anything.  I don’t feel the need to explain or justify.  I just want to be free to express myself and hope that I am understood.  I want the world to know that I have good intentions.  I want to be happy.  I want others to be happy.  I want to help them.  I love the people around me.

I would say . . .I accept you.  Please accept me the way I am.  Please just ask me if you don’t understand me.  Am I really that hard to understand?  Am I hard to like?

If I could say anything, I would ask these questions.  I would say, “Excuse me – but what is it about me that you don’t like?”  “What don’t you get?”

“Because, I am just doing my thing here.  I am just happy to be alive and I want to be a good person and survive another day.  Is that okay with you?”

I would tell my boss and co-workers, “Put me to work.  Use my talents.  If I don’t do things right, tell me.  If I need to get better, give me a chance.”

I would tell my friends,  “If I hurt you in some way, please know it was unintentional and I honestly do not want to hurt you.  I want to make you happy.  I want to make you feel secure.  You can trust me.  You should know that I love you.  I have nothing against you.  I think you are amazing!  I appreciate you and your talents and abilities.  I wish I could know you better.  I wish you would take time to get to know me. I wish you wanted to know me better.  Because, I am great!

If you want to read more about Investing My Faith in Myself, Click Here:


To see the poem, “I am Great” Click Here: https://mizmeliz.com/2012/02/16/i-am-great/

This is my truth.  Considering my truth, I was reminded of a poem given to me by a friend years ago.  He told me his mother gave it to him when he came out. 
In Latin, Desiderata means, “Things desired that are essential”. . .
Desiderata— written by Max Ehrmann in the 1920s —
Go placidly amid the noise and the haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.As far as possible, without surrender,
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even to the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons;
they are vexatious to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain or bitter,
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs,
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals,
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love,
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment,
it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be.
And whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life,
keep peace in your soul.

With all it’s sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

“Keep Peace in Your Soul”

There is more to me than meets the eye.
A Year With Myself, Everything Miz Meliz

A Nice Complexion

Sara Blackthorne says: “Who are the women in your story, the ancestors, who have walked the path of their own true stories? How do you find your beautiful reflection in the world? How do you tend and nurture your core story, as you would tend a tree in the forest?”

Have I “found the answers to my seeking heart?  Have I learned that witnessing—the silent watching of our actions and adventures” adds value to my life?

When I was young, I was told that I had a beautiful complexion.  That was usually followed by the words, “if you only lost some weight, you would be very pretty!”  It took a long time to discover that I was pretty the way I am, just not perfect in the eyes of others.  And it took a little longer to realize that in the eyes of some, I was quite beautiful just the way I was.  And to one person in particular, I am the most beautiful person he has ever seen, because of the way that I am – inside and out.  He and the children that we made together out of love, are the only ones that count.  Their love feeds my soul.  Their love is pure and unconditional. 

I learned at an early age the importance of loving oneself.  I attended Catholic schools since 5th grade and I believed what they told me, “You are loved!”  “God doesn’t make junk!”  “You are unique and special.”  I knew my talents were gifts and that my existence on this Earth had purpose and value.

My mother had me later in life.  Not too late by today’s standards.  She and my Dad had two children within the first few years of marriage.  13 years later, I came along.  They called me “their surprise baby.”  They always corrected people if someone said that I was an accident.  My Mom told me that I was a blessing and that I came at a time in her life when she needed me most.  She said I kept her young.  She also said on occassion, that I would be the one to take care of her when she got old.  And I did.

Being the youngest in my family and also in my generation on both sides, I wasn’t sure where I fit in all the time.  I typically stayed in the shadows.  I watched and listened to what my brother and sister did, how they acted, and how my parents reacted to what they did.  People said I was shy.  I just kept quiet most of the time, taking it all in.  I observed everything.  My family was fun, loud, boisterous, outgoing, friendly and loving.  I didn’t have a voice to match all the adults and their personalities!  But I was just like them.  It wasn’t until after I was married and had children of my own that I felt that I completely fit in. 

When my brother got married in Washington D.C. years ago, my husband and I attended with our small children.  It was your typical exciting family wedding, festivities coupled with sightseeing and meeting the new in-laws.  My parents were there and we all stayed with my brother and sister-in-law to be in an old three-story brownstone in the city.  They got married on Thanksgiving weekend, so it took a lot to coordinate a two-family Thanksgiving, the rehearsal dinner, and the wedding.  Jennifer’s family lived in Alexandria, VA and we came from California, so everyone was out of their “element.”

On the day of the wedding, I helped by making sure everyone was in the right place at the right time.  Jennifer’s father made an observation and statement that has stayed with me from that very moment on.  He said, “Melissa, you are the glue that hold’s this family together.”

I am the glue.

That is an important job.

That is my purpose.

I didn’t realize it up until then.  I needed to hear it.  I hadn’t quite figured out my role yet.  I am grateful for Dave’s witness.  It was the first time I became aware of someone outside my immediate family “silently watching my actions and adventures.”  I love the analogy, too.

It is a blessing and a curse to be the “glue.”  You have to be fluid and pliable, while maintaining your strength.  In my family, and typically with my friends and at work, I am Switzerland.  I remain neutral.  Because of this I am the one everyone opens up to and comes to with their problems.  My ability to observe and keep my opinions safeguarded has made it possible for me to see all points of view.  People can count on me not to judge them and to provide honest, thoughtful advice when asked.

My gift has helped me with my parenting skills as well.  I am fair, yet strong with my three sons. I believe they are comfortable coming to me when they have questions or problems.  They value my opinion and respect me.  I had a similar relationship with my mother once I was in my twenties.

I turned to her for everything.  I called her many times a day.  I could tell her anything.  I shared all the best and worst moments of my life with her.  From childhood on she gave me wonderful advice and calmed me when I was worried.  She was the youngest in her family too.  She understood about age differences.  She guided me through life having had the same perspective that I do in so many aspects.  She warned me about boys and other dangers.  She counselled me about relationships.  She empowered me to explore and have adventures.  She showered me with love and acceptance.  She was bright, kind, proud and beautiful.  I hear myself saying things that she said.  I feel her presence constantly.  I do believe I am a reflection of my mother.  And I have been told often, “You have your mother’s complexion!”


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