That time I relapsed on self-compassion 😁
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#WednesdayWisdom
"I have come to believe over and over again that what is most important to me must be spoken, made verbal and shared, even at the risk of having it bruised or misunderstood." —Audre Lorde
Morning Musings
Toward the end of last week, I had a relapse when it comes to self-compassion. It was the perfect trifecta, really.
For starters, I received an invitation to the launch party for a local magazine whose latest issue features Chicago women at the top of their professional game. Now, I used to be in journalism. I know how these things work. If I were to be included in said issue, I would likely already know.
It got me thinking, "Damn, what else do I have to do ... who do I have to be ... to get some recognition around here?!"
Then, literally just minutes later, a few blogger friends shared that they'd booked speaking engagements at upcoming conferences, which, if you'll remember, is one of my goals for 2018. I'm truly happy for them, and I know the year is still young. But I'd be lying if I said I don't already feel behind.
And last, but certainly not least, I'm officially the heaviest I've ever been. Remember those 7 pounds I lost from the fibroids? Well, I gained them back ... and then some. My favorite jeans no longer fit.
Let the pity party commence!

One thing you should know about me: I am the QUEEN of one-woman pity parties. It's how I found myself in therapy in the first place.
After scoring a measly 2 on a scale of 1-5 in this survey about how much compassion I have for myself, my therapist suggested a series of self-compassion exercises and meditations for me to do when I'm overcome with self-doubt.
My favorite is the five-minute self-compassion break by Kristin Neff (trust me, you'll want to bookmark this one). Interestingly enough, my friends at Shine Text recently wrote about how to throw a productive pity party. Now there's a thought ...
Some may call it self-destructive, but I think it's okay to wallow ... for a bit. I give myself a 12-hour grace period, which is usually enough time for me to bitch and moan; get a good night's rest; wake up, meditate and kick ass.
So if you ever find yourself RSVP'ing to a pity party for one, extend yourself some grace and remember this mantra: "May I be kind to myself."
Love,
L'Oreal
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My ovaries have been doing somersaults over this picture since Forever FLOTUS Michelle Obama posted it to her Instagram Tuesday morning. The adorable little girl engaged in serious convo with our queen? None other than 2-year-old Parker Curry, who you may recognize from this viral picture. This is why #RepresentationMatters.
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