cmdreamer

“Talk to yourself like someone you love.” – Brene Brown

In middle school I was a cheerleader. It’s hilarious to think about because at the time, it confused most people and even to this day when I mention it, people tilt their heads to the side slightly and squint. Like if they strain hard enough, they’ll be able to find something in me they hadn’t seen before. 

I don’t blame them. I’m not exactly brimming with pep. I’m an enthusiastic person for sure but when it comes to doing the whole high ponytail, giant smile, and jazz hands with pom poms – I just don’t fit perfectly into that picture. But, I was at every game, cheering on the football team even if they were losing (which was most of the time). 

That part of cheerleading, I was really good at. Still am as long as I’m being a cheerleader for someone else. When it comes to patting myself on the back or even thinking “nice job” about anything I accomplish, it usually follows a conversation with my mom, a friend, or my therapist. I’ve been working on acknowledging my success for years because it does not come naturally. 

I wouldn’t say it’s now “natural” since I have to use my life support (aka Jean-Ralphio) as a baseline for how amazing it is that I did something…but it’s a start. This past semester was hands down one of the most difficult in terms of finding motivation to work through the depressive episodes Jean-Ralphio’s arrival brought. My desire to get up and study or work on my thesis was nearly non-existent. For the first few weeks after the initial placement of Jean Ralphio, I was a shell of a person. An angry, hurt, scared person who barely got out of bed from soreness, embarrassment, and emotional anguish. The fact that I am now living my life every day as though he’s always been with me is a feat that my therapist had to point out when I started back up with her again. I called her around week four and the first thing out of her mouth was “it’s only been a month?” 

I was completely taken aback by that question. She was right, of course, it had only been a month. And here I was sitting outside on campus, calling my therapist, and telling her about this life changing and life saving experience that I was “frustrated with because I am still having a hard time adjusting.” In that moment the light bulb went off in my head and I was once again realizing that somewhere in my brain, I was keeping myself from truly appreciating my resilience. I was going forward on this journey and in my life with the same mentality I did when my grandfather got sick and passed away – this is what is expected of me. 

Funnily enough it’s not what was expected of me (then and now). People expected me to be an emotional mess who couldn’t get straight A’s in her first semester because of the weekends spent in the hospital room holding her grandfather’s hand. People expected me to be an emotional mess who wouldn’t complete her thesis and last semester in graduate school because of the constant reminder that her body stopped working. And both of those outcomes would have been completely understandable. 

So why? Why is it so hard for me to be my own cheerleader when I look at myself, my challenges, and my accomplishments like I am for everyone else? I don’t know. 

Maybe it took Jean-Ralphio coming into my life for me to appreciate just how much I pushed through. Because let me tell you…there is nothing more uncomfortable than standing in front of a room of your peers and presenting your thesis project…all while literally peeing in front of them. It felt like I had taken the “pretend they’re all in their underwear” and flipped it on its head. Instead of them being just as vulnerable as me, I was under a microscope and every part of me was being picked apart like I was the Operation guy (if you’re too young, it was a game we played when I was a kid…goodness I feel old). 

But I survived that. And I killed it. 

Then, I got to walk across the stage of the United Palace and receive recognition as a Masters Graduate from Teachers College, Columbia University. I graduated from an Ivy League school and I can’t promise that until Jean-Ralphio, I would have felt as proud of myself as I do now. I like to think that maybe he was a blessing in disguise in more ways than one. I’ve always been that person that is thankful for everything from the soft pillow I put my head on at night to the people who loved me when I didn’t love myself. I love to think about the wonderful moments in life that make the horrible moments just a little more bearable. But now, I see the beauty in my own actions and I’m thankful for them too.

I’m thankful for waking up every morning and getting out of bed. I’m thankful for calling off work when I’m sick because whatever was in my stomach wasn’t enough to fully absorb my medication instead of sucking it up. I’m thankful that when a pair of pants doesn’t quite feel right and they hurt to put on, that I let the tears fall and pick out another pair. I’m thankful that when I change into my night bag and spill, I no longer cry and simply laugh (because there’s no point in crying over spilled urine). I’m thankful for being vulnerable and letting people in instead of pushing them away. I’m thankful for allowing myself to openly grieve a life that no longer exists. I’m thankful for the fact that I can lightly jog (and I do). I’m thankful for finding time to love myself the way I love everyone else (even though it’s really hard sometimes). I’m thankful that I decided to go to therapy in 2021 because I was struggling with the pandemic. I’m thankful that in 2023, I started it up again when I realized I was falling into old patterns. I’m thankful that I sat through classes in uncomfortable chairs but kept showing up. I’m thankful that I asked my professors for extensions only when I really needed them. I’m thankful that I said I wanted to graduate when my advisor asked if I needed another semester. I’m thankful that somewhere in my subconscious, I believed I was worth applying to graduate school. I’m thankful that I’m alive and made my family and myself proud. I’m thankful that every time I wanted to quit, whether it be now or 7 years ago, I never did. 

One day, I hope I’ll be my biggest cheerleader. Until then, I’ll be grateful for the progress I’ve made in that department. Along with everything else.