Why Self-Love Seems Rebellious
/
I’ve watched Olympic gymnastics for as long as I can remember. I was named after Olympic gold medalist, Dominique Dawes. I bought books and watched documentaries about Gabby Douglas leading up to and after the 2012 Summer Olympics, hoping to understand more about the petite, but powerful young woman. And slightly related, I was obsessed with the ABC Family show, Make It or Break It, a tv drama about young gymnasts trying to accomplish their Olympic dreams. I say all this to say that when it’s time to watch the U.S. Olympic Gymnastics Team, I am all in.
Recently, I’ve started therapy, and it’s led to me analyzing and evaluating my need to always make others comfortable even at the expense of my own well-being. Questioning why I consider my wants and desires LAST has been a difficult process. To some extent, it’s reassuring to be able to put a name to the source of your anxiety, but also slightly daunting when you come to terms with the amount of healing and mental work that will be required to improve. As I’ve learned, healing requires a tiresome amount of introspection and unlearning. It’s like being awakened from the Matrix and then having to constantly remind yourself of what’s real and what’s fake.
On July 27th, I was watching my favorite Olympic sport on the couch with my mother and my sister, as the greatest gymnast of all time, Simone Biles walked off the gym floor. We were silent as the commentators spoke in circles completely bewildered by her sudden exit. Shortly after, she returned in a tracksuit and a statement withdrawing her position in the competition. Immediately, criticism poured in. Pre-therapy Dominique probably would have piled on ignorantly, but watching her stand silently, determined on the sideline left me open-mouthed, in awe. Not in anger for seeing someone so talented opt-out of the competition but because I couldn’t even fathom being in that position of immense pressure and still choosing myself. I was in awe of the fact that despite the pressure and media attention, she did what was best for her, and I grew slightly sad that in my own much less popularized life, choosing myself seems so daunting.
As a longtime fan of U.S. Olympic Gymnastics, I didn’t see her as weak or selfish. I revered her strength in valuing her own wellbeing over a fleeting competition. She was mentally healthy enough to put things into perspective and see that her own life was worth more than the opinions of other people. (Other people who know absolutely nothing about the sport of gymnastics, I might add.) At the heart of most critics, exempting the racist ones, I think lies not anger, but disbelief that someone can choose themselves over the rest of the world. This immense self-love is not encouraged in our society, so when we see people like Simone Biles, Naomi Osaka, or even, Meghan Markle, choosing joy over popularity, our heads explode. We struggle to comprehend how they could make that choice, so we label it as weak because we know we’re too fearful to set boundaries in our own life. And I challenge us all, including myself, to lean into how sad that is and to get the necessary mental help, so that we don’t see an act of self-preservation as an act of rebellion.
The life we live is so fleeting, and I wish for us all the mental wellness to be able to put on our tracksuit and sit some things out when our hearts are not in it. I love you beautiful sisters, and I hope you have a blessed day.
