Does love come with a price, and if, how much does it cost? Some people say love is unconditional; others have a lot of demands. Where lies the truth? I grew up being taught that I have to be something special to be worthy of love and that it requires a lot of work to deserve this feeling I was craving for.
So I thought the price of love is to become the cutest girl in the room, the best at school, the one who draws the most beautiful paintings and makes the most intelligent remarks during conversations. The less I felt loved, the more I worked. I read tons of books about every topic you can imagine, starved myself to be the most skinny girl in the room, worked till utter exhaustion and pushed myself into a public position—all of this to catch the attention of people whose love I desired. I wanted them to look at me with pride and to realise that there was nobody who deserved to be loved more than me.
Of course, this was a twisted point of view because although it made me very ambitious and reaching for perfection in everything I did, it didn’t bring me what I was longing for the most. I compared myself to others because there was always somebody more beautiful, more intelligent, more fun and turned into my biggest critic, deconstructing every one of my own successes. It was just not possible to ever satisfy this voice in my head that told me I was not good enough. For a while, I thought I was jealous when I saw others succeeding; then I realised that the root of my dark feelings was something else: Other peoples success hurt me because it made me feel like I was a loser. I was so frustrated that I forgot to see my qualities, focussing on where I saw the potential for improvement. Means everywhere.
People told me how beautiful I was again and again. They praised how good I am at many things and how much they enjoy my company. I listened, felt uncomfortable and couldn’t believe it because if I were this good for real, why would I not be loved? This dangerous logic consumed my mind, and I had to learn to get rid of that critic in my head, which was one of my most difficult tasks. It took me years to admit that that critic is too loud, and piece by piece, I learn to push it back and tell it to be quiet. In my job, I lead people, and my strategy has always been to keep their motivation up. It’s a paradox that I couldn’t provide the same positive circumstances I create for others for myself.
Although I got better in the meanwhile, I don’t think that critic in my head will ever disappear. But I see now that the price of love isn’t to be perfect. People who truly love you want your best and love you despite your faults, they can’t stand it when you cry, and they nourish you. True love doesn’t judge you for your mistakes but builds you up, so you grow. This is what I found in my friends, and it makes me a far happier girl than I was, filled with the strength to grow. It’s not my fault that I didn’t have love whenever I needed it; I am not just enough but a firework. If you don’t see that, you must be looking down while I am filling the sky…
My outfit:
Coat: Coster Copenhagen kindly gifted by Custom Made, Bag & Hat: Vintage, Shoes: A gift, Sunglasses: Saint Laurent, Bangle: Vintage Versace, Shoes: A gift from my mom
Pictures Photörhead
