©LF Haynie, May 5, 2016
Everyone has them, even if you don’t know that you do. Those whispers in your head, the tapes (showing my age here…videos, whatever) that are playing from your past. Playing in the background of your mind. Continuously dropping their poison into your unprotected ears.
If you know what those messages are, if you can recognize them when you hear them, you can derail them and replace them with good, true, strong messages.
So how do you find out what your unconscious messages are? I’m reading “Love is a Choice” and it suggested that, to determine those messages, you could write down everything that you think women are (and other groups as well).
What do I think all women are, at least back in the depths of my dinosaur brain? You’ll laugh. You might even cry. Here goes:
All women are slender, pretty. They stand tall and proud, back and shoulders straight, usually with a smile on their faces. They talk gently and softly and kindly, or merrily, but always confidently. They are always noticed in crowds.
They are tender and kind. They know how to bring up children wisely and properly. They know how to keep from being absorbed into their spouses. They know their own personality. They have opinions, and they know how to make those opinions known in a ladylike way. They are intelligent, and talk articulately, ideas flowing smoothly from their lips.
They are caregivers. They keep track of things like birthdays and anniversaries, and they send cards or little presents. They value their friends and keep in touch when their friends are sick or hurting—and they always know what is appropriate to say or do in any situation.
They know what to wear when. They know what clothing pairs with other clothing. They know what jewelry looks good with what outfits. They love accessories: belts, scarves, hair doodads. They love shoes and wear high heels even when in great pain. They wear outfits that look good even when they are exercising. They never, ever wear a shirt that has a stain set in. They know how to repair rips, tears, stains, broken zippers, hems falling down. And when to get rid of things that are not repairable.
They like sweet-smelling lotions and creams and soaps. They use facial cleanser and moisturizer every single day, preserving their face and hands so that they will look younger forever. They know how to apply makeup skillfully, not blobs of mascara or lipstick half bitten off. They know how to blend the colors that suit them.
Every day, they blow-dry and style their hair so that it suits the shape of their face, the shape of their personality. They get their hair cut and styled and colored every month or six weeks.
They love parties—going to parties, having parties. They know how to talk to people, how to socialize with groups of people. Shopping. Cooking fancy foods that LOOK fancy as well as taste good, with fancy cookware and utensils. Sweet pastries. Going on “girls’ night out”.
They know how to make a home home. How to decorate, how to clean and make it smell clean. How to do the chores, even when they don’t feel like doing them, not just when someone is visiting. How to make it inviting, even when it looks like it came out of a magazine.
They buy things that match. They know where all their matching Tupperware lids are. And they have good, matching china and silverware and cloth napkins, when company comes. Their curtains hang straight, on good rods well hung, not cheap ones bowed in the middle, and the curtains match the furniture well, in color and style.
They know they are attractive, and they know they can have their pick of men. They are not limited to the dregs, the castoffs, the unwanted. They value themselves. They value themselves enough to take care of themselves, enough to ask for what they need, and enough to make sure that the people they keep around them value them as well.
They are adults. Completely, undeniably, and absolutely adults.
Wow. That just poured out onto paper. How much of this matches with who I am? Almost none. So that tells me that my messages about myself are the antithesis of these messages.
The burden of the shame generated by negative messages is almost unbelievable. And I cannot believe that I am the only one. Or am I?
To be continued....