Yes, that’s a photo of me to the right, however it’s not a baby photo. I was an early bloomer but not quite that much of an early bloomer. Speaking of my birth, it was kind of kinky, only not in a Masters and Johnson sort of way. You see, I chose to come a few weeks early and surprise my folks in the middle of the night.
I created a bit of a ruckus and lost a little oxygen in the process. I speak with a one-of-a-kind accent commonly called a speech impediment. As a kid, I also had substantial coordination differences. In seventh grade, I actually threw a shot put backwards during a track meet, (true story).
I spent much of my life hating feeling so different.
What I discovered from this extensive research project in self-loathing, is that constant self-criticism doesn’t get you what you want in life. Plus, it’s just a drag!
About seven years ago, desperate for a change, I went to a yoga class, and then another and another, and then lots more. I began to fall in love with my body and my voice. This love was definitely not love at first sight. My love for myself blossomed slowly as I engaged in more and more activities that brought me joy. By treating myself with love, I did finally seize the freedom we all have, the freedom to love ourselves.
Now I can proudly say:
I love my voice. I love my coordination. I love me.