Women's Magazine

September 1997

by Peggy O'Neill

Maintaining a high self-esteem is not always an easy task for women today. Especially in the past -- and to this day -- women have been valued for their external beauty. With today's mass media, both men and women are constantly bombarded with colorful images of supermodels and gorgeous celebrities. As a species that discriminates and selects, it is nearly impossible for human beings -- men and women alike -- not to compare our bodies with those of the superstars. We can be disappointed in ourselves because our legs aren't as lanky as Julia Roberts' or our curves aren't as swanky as Dolly Parton's. But how many woman actually look like these demi-goddesses? And how can we possibly feel good about ourselves when we hold ourselves up against these standards?

As a woman who stands only 3'8" tall and with somewhat irregular proportions, I have pondered this question considerably. Trying to obtain a sense of self-worth by measuring myself against magazine cover queens has been rather unsuccessful. In fact, in response to this cultural trend, I practically put a gun to my head. I felt so flawed and helpless. This frustration was not unlike the feelings of many other women, I'm sure. It seems that no matter how attractive a woman truly is, she tends to see herself as not beautiful enough.

"Not Okay the Way I Am"

Struggling with self esteem in relation to how I appear to others has been a lifelong battle for me. As long as I can remember, I have gotten the message from the outside world that there is something wrong with me. Whether it came from other kids calling me names on the playground when I was young, people in other countries gawking at me, potential bosses assuming I am less intelligent than others, men keeping me in the category of 'friend', or little children pointing at me in the grocery store, the message has always seemed to be that I am not okay the way I am. The hurt I've felt in these situations his been considerable, but what has been most challenged is my capacity to maintain a positive sense of myself, to feel good about myself, and to feel happy being alive.

To counteract the weight of this negative self-image, I tried many things. I strived for athletic accomplishment.

I tried being popular, being smart, getting noticed, being different, being special, achieving awards. No matter what I accomplished, I could never alter my inner sense of deficiency and separation. Deep down, I felt like a walking shell -- empty and devoid of human value, alienated and alone. My attempts to hide this pain and self-contempt from the world didn't really work; those feelings just brewed inside me like an illness.

When I was 28 years old, my best friend dragged me to northern California to study healing dance with Anna Halprin. Anna was the first person I had ever met who celebrated differences among people. She created an attitude and an atmosphere in which my difference was transformed into a uniqueness, where my blemish turned into a marvelous thing. I learned from her that how we see ourselves is a choice and that though we may feel flawed, we all have an intrinsic quality of perfection and beauty. Anna's daughter, Daria, a dancing psychotherapist helped me open to the power of uncovering the unconscious mind and the liberation that follows.

With my renewed sense of self-esteem, I enrolled in one of the most challenging art schools in the country, the An Center College of Design. During my final semester of commercial photography, the dean of the college informed me that most advertisers would likely choose people with taller bodies and that I was unlikely to get hired. This bit of "advice" served to tear down the fragile self-esteem I'd built since working with Anna. A few months after my graduation, I moved to Hawaii and "dropped out' of the world.

"My Heart Felt Wrapped in Tar"

Hawaii offered many beauties; I lived on a fruit farm overlooking the distant ocean. But the outer splendor could not reach or nourish my heart and soul. Even the love of my friends failed to console me. My heart felt wrapped in black tar as attempt at an adult love relationship failed. This served as a protection from the pain, but it also represented the hatred I felt for myself because men did not find me beautiful.

My prayers for a way out of this anguish led me to Boulder and to the Diamond Heart School, a program that undertakes self-exploration, combining spiritual mysticism and modem developmental psychology. My most profound discovery here has been about who I really am. I found that who I really am has nothing to do with my body, how others see me or where I have succeeded or failed. What relief! What freedom!

The first thing I learned was not to beat myself up and to defend myself against all the put-downs -- from inside as well as outside. What's important is that you not let yourself or someone else make you feel bad about your imperfection or mistakes. Without acceptance that we all make mistakes and all have imperfections, we can never truly live.

Does this mean we become prey to our weaknesses and mistakes? No, it simply means that rather than beating ourselves into shape, we use god's guidance, and love to nurture our growth and development.

An Inner Life

Also important is the development of an inner life, the ability to close your eyes and let your attention observe what is happening inside us -- our thoughts, feelings, bodily sensations, motives, dreams, and intuitions.  Some call it meditation, some call it prayer, contemplation, or sitting, Whenever we take time to stop quietly, fellow our breath, sense our center and stop doing, thinking, and planning -- we nourish our capacity to connect with what is deep inside ourselves, the source of real happiness.

Coming to terms with negative emotions is another important factor in unveiling our inherent dignity. It is challenging to feel the pain of past emotions. First we must overcome the judgment of ourselves as weak and bad to feel emotions such as hurt and hatred. We all have had negative experiences, and "negative" emotions -- such as anger and hurt -- are logical responses. If we hold all of these emotions inside, we cut ourselves off from our inner resources of love, respect, and joy.  Just as washing dirt off the windows allows the sunshine to come through, so processing our repressed emotions enables us to gain access to our inner goodness.

Gifts in Disguise

Part of my healing entailed learning not to act out these feelings on others but instead to make a safe space for feeling them -- crying with a close friend, drawing and writing about my anger in a journal. Hitting the bed with a bat to release my rage. To my surprise, I found hidden treasure beneath all of those feelings: I found strength. love power. compassion, joy, sweetness, beauty, and life.

Recognizing these inside myself allowed me to let go of worrying about how others saw me -- beautiful or not, capable or not, wonderful or not. This is a reservoir from which I can now draw my self-worth.  Following these practices gives me the freedom to be who I truly am. I no longer try to be a certain way so that others will love and accept me.

I am now happily married and enjoying life with fervor. I work in Boulder, Colorado as a body -centered therapist trained in Hakomi and incorporating much of what I have learned through my own healing work. I also speak to children, teens, business people, and people with special needs and their parents about accepting themselves and others, seeing challenges as opportunities to grow, and developing self-confidence and inner dignity. The ultimate benefit in feeling better about myself is that I now make healthy choices that bring ease, love, and fulfillment into my life. and I get to help others learn to do the same in their lives.