Why You Hate Yourself

We’re gonna have some real talk today.

I want to drag thirteen year-old me back into the frame for a moment. I like to pretend I never lived before I turned fifteen, so I bury my past-selves deep beneath the ground and delete them from the deep tresses of Facebook so no one can find them.

Thirteen year-old Maddy loved anime. She was a little obnoxious about it, but she had fun. She wore black Reeboks every day; the soles pushed inward because her feet were too wide, but she didn’t know that yet. She didn’t wear makeup; she thought girls who kissed too many boys wore makeup at this age. She liked dark colors and wore fingerless gloves to school—not because she had anything to hide, but because she thought they were cool. She was overweight, but didn’t care much about it.

One day she walked into her mother’s bathroom. I remember when she did this. I don’t know why she did it. She was looking for something, but hadn’t turned the light on. Afternoon sunlight streamed through the tightly closed blinds above the bathtub, giving her just enough light to catch herself in the mirror.

She froze. She studied her face, her hair, her eyes, her shoulders—everything. It was as if she was meeting herself for the first time. Her hair resembled that of a trapezoid, glasses rectangular and thinly framed, face round and preparing for adolescence. Her nose jutted out like a witch’s, and she touched it to confirm if it really was that big. I remember precisely what she said to herself:

“That’s what everyone looks at?”

And that’s when it began.

Everyone experiences bouts of low self-esteem at one point or another. I can’t tell you if mine was any lower than the average teenager’s. I can tell you I didn’t like myself, and frankly that’s all that matters. The worst part is that I knew exactly what was keeping me from changing that: I didn’t think I was supposed to like myself. People who liked themselves were given unspeakable nicknames and were constantly taunted. I didn’t want that.

On my mission, I was given the opportunity to weed out thirteen year-old Maddy. She stuck with me through college. She didn’t speak up much, but she talked enough. My mission silenced her. It put her back in middle school where she belonged. I realized that, no, it isn’t wrong to love yourself. And no, it is not okay to be content with not liking yourself. Let it be said here and now for everyone who reads this to know: you are supposed to like yourself. There is no reason for you to sit back in that seemingly cushy chair of your comfort zone and strap yourself down with unrelenting restraints and say, “This is how I am. I am simply never going to like myself, and that’s okay.”

Heavenly Father would never, ever want you to feel that way. To say you are incapable of change is a mockery of Christ’s Atonement. He accomplished that so that you could change—and that includes changing the little negative things that have nibbled on your soul for so long that you’ve become numb to the sensation. Heavenly Father wants you to change that—He wants you to love yourself as He loves you; perfectly, unconditionally, humbly, and always.

I’m going to give you a list of three things that helped me learn this for myself. Most of this came to me as a missionary, and I owe all of these realizations to my Father in Heaven. I am nothing compared to Him. I am nothing without Him. This is all because of Him—not of anything I did of my own accord.

   1. Recognize Your Worth—and Everyone Else’s, Too

Let’s face it. We’ve sat through countless lessons on our self-worth, and sometimes that does absolutely nothing. For the longest time, I’d figuratively roll my eyes every time someone mentioned how I’m “worth something.” People telling me that never accomplished the effect they were going for. Maybe it did for others, but not for me—and maybe some of you are like me. That clumped me with everyone else. And in my mind, I couldn’t be like everyone else and be worth something more at the same time.

And that is wherein the mistake lies.

Recognizing you’re worth something—whether you’re a member of this Church or not—does not mean you’re worth something more than someone else. It only made sense to me that if I was worth something, I had to be better than someone. This became a way for me to simultaneously break down myself and others at the same time. This isn’t a competition. We're all in this together, even if it feels like we're constantly trying to get ahead of each other.

Understanding that every person you talk to is a son or daughter of God with infinite value and worth vastly changes how you see yourself. On my mission, I was placed around people who, in a normal setting I would have probably judged and never talked to because my self-esteem was too bruised from just looking at the person. But, then I had the beautiful privilege of talking to these people and getting to know them, love them, and even become good friends with them. I realized they were struggling with the same things I was, and some of them even saw me the way I saw them—and then I realized that comparing yourself to others breeds both pride and insecurity—neither of which God wants.

We’re all in this together.

2. Learn to Take a Compliment—and Give One, Too.

I got into this habit in Mississippi. See, I love complimenting people. I didn’t used to, only because I was too busy juxtaposing my traits with theirs, and I couldn’t see how amazing they were because of those things. I also didn't realize that they probably had no idea they were as great as I thought they were.

As I started giving compliments, I did an internal study on how their responses affected me. I felt the happiest when someone would give me the biggest smile and say, “Thank you!” Sometimes they’d return the compliment.  Any of these responses brought a smile to my face.

Then I would come across those who blatantly did not agree with me, and would immediately retort, “No, I don’t. That isn’t true.” “How does that make any sense?” “You’re lying.” They’d usually glare. I’d feel uncomfortable, and a little discouraged. And as I searched for a way to help them understand, a little voice in my head told me that I used to do the exact same thing.

This immediately changed how I received words of affirmation. Someone took time out of their day to look at me, open their mouth, and allow rays of sunshine to sprinkle around me for the sole purpose of making my day better. How could I make them feel bad about that? Even if I didn’t agree with them?

I discovered that once I stopped arguing with compliments, I started believing them. This made me want to give them more. I stopped telling myself that the person would think I was weird, or that they’d get angry, or that it would be awkward. Once you start paying more attention to those around you and focus on their strengths, you highlight your own.

3. Increase Your Mental Game

Self-esteem is a constant mental battle. I imagine myself weighed down with armor, dragging my sword over those who have been defeated by the Self-Esteem Dragon. All six of his heads are equipped to attack me from all sides. I don’t always have time to react—in fact, before my mission, I was pretty slow to react to his strikes. Most often I was engulfed in his flames and tempted to lie on the ground with the rest of my comrades and admit defeat.

But, no. God gave me a sword and shield. I was meant to fight this beast.

The armor of God is used most often to talk about battling the world or sin. I think it’s a sin to hate yourself. Know you not what you’re worth? Heavenly Father has equipped us with the sword of the Spirit and the shield of faith, the breastplate of righteousness and “loins girt with truth” (Ephesians 6:11-18). This is some pretty sick armor if you ask me.

You will need to parry your negative, self-deprecating thoughts with uplifting dashes of the Spirit—with truth. Even if at the time it feels like a lie.

I started doing this thing where when people I loved paid me certain compliments, I’d say, “I know. Thank you!” I’d make sure my tone wasn’t condescending, but genuine. I did not believe them at first. But the more I said that out loud, the more I built myself up outside of my mind, and the more I believed it inside my mind.

Acting positively is an act of faith. It is you bringing your shield into position as the dragon rains the fire of negativity down upon you. Telling yourself positive things is a swing of the Spirit. Never, ever will the Spirit say something negative about you. Never. If He is God’s messenger, He will not—and I mean He will not—seek to strike you down. He strikes your enemies. Like this dragon.

As you do this, your mental attitude will improve. I saw it in myself. It isn’t easy. It took me twenty-one years to get to a point where I actually, genuinely love myself. Am I perfect at it? No. Am I the self-esteem guru? No. But I’m in a far better place now than I was two years ago.

Exercise the Atonement. Be patient with yourself and let the progress come gradually. See yourself as Christ does. Be the glorious, stardust being you are and tell yourself you’re amazing—because you are.

As you do this, you will come closer to your Heavenly Father. He will show you who you are to Him. I learned that turning outward is the best way to cleanse inward. As Larry R. Lawrence says, “As you point out the good in others, the Spirit will point out the good in ourselves.”

Let the Spirit show you who you are, and you will become that person. Be humble about it. We can achieve nothing without our Savior.

May the Fourth be with y’all.

Have a good week.