I read a great blog post today. About being happy with yourself the way you are. About how self help books can make us think we need to be something more. I’ve never been a fan of self help books. Oh sure, I’ve bought a few. But I don’t think I’ve ever actually finished reading one. Or kept one. I give them away. Or loan them out and conveniently forget who I’ve given them to. Or that I even owned them in the first place. They are the books I pretend to read. Pretend to like. They are, to me, a bit like yoga. And meditation. And visualisation. And Journaling. And gratitude. Things I sometimes tell myself I should be doing, then come to my senses and realise that I’m happy and fulfilled without those things. I don’t need them in my life.
Well, maybe the yoga. For the strength aspect. If I can find the right type of yoga class. But then, what I really want is a natural movement class. Because I’ve tried yoga before and it doesn’t do it for me. Why would I think trying again would change that? Why do I even think I should try?
I’m happy with myself the way I am. I don’t need to be something more. I don’t feel dissatisfied. My life is pretty amazing and I’m proud of the things I’ve achieved. I don’t need self help and I don’t need to be grateful – it’s not as if I was given those things. Why do women feel a need to be grateful, anyway? We achieve things through hard work. Admit that you created the good things you have achieved. Be proud, not grateful. Gratitude smacks of subservience to me.
But I’m getting off track. I’ve gone off on a tangent. And that’s fine, too. Here’s the blog post I was talking about. Let me know what you think. Do you really need to be something more?