Jenny Block on the primacy of self-care
“You have to put on your own oxygen mask first.”
I forget that sometimes. In terms of self-care, I have to remember to get enough sleep, to eat less crap, to go for a walk. But I also mean in terms of being the one who is responsible for making myself feel good about myself. Sometimes, I can get to kicking myself about my career: Why aren’t I working on a new book? Why aren’t I writing for Vanity Fair? Why aren’t I doing a TEDTalk?
When I look to my partner to pump me up and tell me how great I’m doing, the result is short-lived. More often than not, it doesn’t even ring true for me because it’s not true for me. Same with how I look, including my weight. I have been a disordered eater since high school. I am only five feet tall, and gaining 10-plus pounds is like gaining 10-plus percent of my body weight. It’s a big deal to me.
My wife always tells me how great I look. But that can’t be the glue that holds me together. I have to feel great. In the end, if we’re talking about feeling good about ourselves, what rings true for us as individuals is the only thing that matters. Putting on your oxygen mask first is about feeling good about yourself so that you can be your best self for your partner.
When I’m not feeling good about my body, it’s harder for me to feel sexy. When I don’t feel sexy, I’m less likely to make my wife feel wanted.
It’s a crummy cycle. I don’t feel desirable, so I don’t come on to her, so she doesn’t feel like I desire her when nothing could be further from the truth. And no amount of her telling me that I’m as sexy as ever is going to fix that. I have to fix that.
The problem with looking to someone else to validate ourselves is that it is brief, unreliable and — most importantly — outside of us. We have to be happy with ourselves. And if we’re not, we have to do the things that make us feel like we are at our best.
That could mean a lot of things. It could mean a crash diet on social media. Seeing fewer air-brushed bodies allows me to focus on reality instead of fantasy. It could mean getting back to eating better and working out. It could mean whatever helps me get back into my body and back out of my head.
It’s an easy trap to fall into, and it’s a two-fold danger. It’s no fun admitting that I’ve gotten lazy about taking care of my body; if I can blame anyone else, I’d love to. But it doesn’t do any good. Even if I can get someone else to take responsibility, it wouldn’t be real. Even if my wife tells me she’d love me at any weight and if I never want to write another word and I want to devote my time to something entirely different, she wouldn’t love me any less; that’s great, too. But that has to be my additional support, not the mainstay of my self-confidence and self-worth.
I have to love me and feel good about me. And although my wife and lots of other people can support me on that pursuit, only I can do that very hard work.
But here’s the good news: When I do it, I am the happiest, the most fun, the most productive, the kindest, most generous version of me there is.
Unhappy people tend to want — subconsciously or otherwise — to make other people unhappy. Unsatisfied people tend to want — subconsciously or otherwise — to make other people unsatisfied. And they are good at it. Unhappiness and dissatisfaction are powerful and dangerous emotions.
I know it’s cliché, but it’s cliché for a reason: You can’t truly love someone else until you love yourself. It’s tough. Most of us grow up hating one thing or another about ourselves and long for someone to see the person we want to be or imagine ourselves to be and we cling on to that for dear life. But that’s external. And anything external is fleeting.
If you’ve never thought you were important enough to take care of yourself and be your best self, whatever that means to you, then use your partner as motivation. Because when you are your best, you can be a better partner to her and support her as she seeks to be her best self, too. If you don’t like something about yourself, change it. Don’t offload the responsibility of making you feel good about yourself onto your partner.
She will fail and then she’ll feel terrible even though she was set up for a losing battle.
All too often, we blame anything and everything outside of ourselves for making us feel fat or undesirable or dumb or whatever. But the truth is, more often than not, those were already our thoughts about ourselves. We then take another’s words or actions and twist them around and say,
“You think I’m fat.” “You don’t think I’m sexy.” “You don’t think I’m smart enough” when those were never the words coming from their mouths. If they are, that’s a whole other problem.
Our partners should support us. They cannot — and should not — define us.
Have a question about sex, relationships or life you want Jenny to address? Email it to GirlOnGirlsJenny@gmail.com.