I had always dismissed the idea of “self-love” as so silly, so white, so woo-woo and New Age-y. Now I saw that learning how to love myself was my salvation, a rebellious act of refusing to believe I was what white institutions or Papa had wanted to reduce me to. To love myself was to accept myself as I am and to live in a way that honored my feelings, aligned with my values, and trusted my senses, even when the outside world wanted me to doubt or shrink myself. Therapy became a place not for repair but for the formation of a relationship with someone who helped me see that I am already whole.
