Dead That

It is now illegal to be mean to me. Of course, I’m writing to myself when I say this. I’d become too comfortable with self-critique; it has become my way of life. I realize that the source of my suffering is self-inflicted, which I knew, but wasn’t quite clear on the point of origin and the subtle ways in which I do so. Growing up hearing people judge each other and experiencing a gross negligence of clear communication over the years led me to a place of defense and anxiety. Mean to myself in my thoughts, beating myself up mentally in the name of progress. I have to say, being self-aware and making sure I see myself from an unbiased perspective has led me to become a better person for myself and others in many ways. However, it is now time to graduate into celebrating myself for everything I am and everything I am not. I get to enjoy being the person I am instead of constantly evaluating every aspect of myself. I no longer take responsibility for researching the reasons why others do the things they do to me. I hereby release myself from the shackles of critical self-analysis. I’m sure the natural tendencies of life will show me how to navigate nuisances when they occur, I will no longer search for faults. This is a public love letter to me, a promise to stop being mean.