Loving Yourself Is

Maybe I’m more broken than I think,
And I believe that if I fix you, I’ll fix myself as well,
When in truth I lack the tools, the strength to do it.
Maybe I show you love by trying to convince you to love me—
But then it isn’t love.
And the question arises:
Would my heart find peace with you?

I made a list of what, I thought, self-love was—
Rules to keep another from using me like a mop, or a second choice.
But I don’t put them into practice,
And in my head I rehearse conversations, boasting of these made-up rules,
And I think to myself:

“If only I would love myself as I ought to.”

And when the pain comes, I lift this complaint to God:
I want to be loved beautifully.
I want no one to be ashamed of me.
I want to be honored and respected.
I want to be truly heard.
I want someone to care about me.
I want someone to commit to me.
Why does it sometimes feel like asking too much?

And I answer myself:
I will love myself beautifully.
I will not be ashamed of who I am.
I will learn to honor and respect myself.
I will give myself the chance to speak.
I will care for myself with kindness and patience.
I will convince myself that I love myself—that I truly love myself.

Where do I find that freeing love?
How do I become the man I long to be?