It was nice. It was just really really nice.
I am sweet. I am loving, gentle, peaceful, generous, creative. I am the precision-engineered ball-bearings which keep the machine of human society purring along smoothly. I am highly intelligent, and this is wonderful. It is really beautiful to be me. I have great gifts, for my delight and the benefit of humanity.
I phoned the Samaritans with the purpose of being positive about myself and my situation. I would enumerate my reasons to be cheerful. Over an hour with Linda I did. Coming to self-acceptance and my current understanding has been difficult, and I have managed it because I am perceptive and creative. I have responded well to my situation. Linda observed that I am honest and passionate. That is true.
Out of work, it has been good to have the time to care for myself and to heal, and-
I deserve it.
I am worthy of this. It is not some imposition on society, but a positive good.
At the end of the call, I surprised myself by saying
I like myself.
I have not thought of it like that before. I am pleased. I wonder how many people can say that. Try it. Look in a mirror, and say that to yourself, and smile. See how it feels. Let me know, if you like, in the comments: let us celebrate one another. Thirty years ago, I saw the dentist’s wife for the first time, and my friend turned to me and said, “I love me. Who do you love?” in mockery and resentment of her self-assurance, which I might have thought arrogant. “I like me” is difficult- but it’s good if you can do it.
I phoned the Samaritans to psych myself up for applying for another job. I would be good for it, and it would be good for me. I have now emailed the employer’s contact. I was with my radical feminist friend on Wednesday night. I took off my wig to put on my cycle helmet, but we continued talking. “You have lovely male energy,” she said- and, given that she uses the word “male” in the peculiar radical feminist sense, I can take that as a compliment. West of Candleford, miles from anywhere, I had a puncture; I phoned a taxi which took me and the bicycle home, and next day took the wheel off, went to get a new tyre, and put the wheel back on. I am pleased with dealing with that problem. As he drove off, the taxi driver said, “Goodnight, sir,” but rather than thinking “Oh my God! He thinks I’m a man!” I thought, “What a nit.”
I googled “I like myself”, and find it is a picture book. A mother writes, My daughter thought the little girl was “funny”. I found her quite delightful, I could feel the happiness she exudes while reading this book. How lovely!
After all my self-doubt, this is an improvement. You can think well of yourself too.