Self-love is a bullshit product you fell for and here's how I know
One day I was watching “Clank’d,” a fake name I’ll use for one of those A&E shows about Black pain in prison.
(I realized then that cable reality t.v. trades in the most basic emotions: anger, greed, vanity, shame. These super clear themes drive what people watch. And seize on what people believe.)
So back to this show. “Clank’d” producers interviewed a C.O. about an inmate who was acting out. As in, a man pulled shit from his anus and ate it, no lie. Clearly shocking. He also threw it at guards trying to restrain him. In response to this off-color behavior, the C.O. gave his best social worker take. Which is never a good sign.
“This happens when you have a guy with a psychotic break. That’s one of the first signals...the hygiene, and they start to self-harm…”
The C.O. and his clinical words rang out to me.
Essentially, to the corrections officer, the man had become a product. That inmate became the intended product of the American prison system and the guard simply stated that. Real matter-of-fact. In the assembly line of human bodies, punished for wrongdoing, the shit-eating inmate rolled to the end of the conveyor belt ho-hum on an average day, as if that makes any sense.
It doesn’t. But our society trains us to believe that these cruel standards for treatment are just what is.
Our society then tells you that you could be valid like the rest of us, and that you only feel shitty and depressed and worthless because you haven’t loved yourself enough. So you should practice “self-care” to repair feelings of inadequacy. That’s the obvious solution. To economic crisis, to racism, to hate, to greed. To all the problems thrust upon you by an unloving order.
LOVE YOURSELF IT’LL ALL BE BETTER PROMISE.
Please love me I'm actually a piece of garbage.
But what they lied to you about is this: you do love yourself. You wake up, go to work, eat food, breathe, call your friends, post on social media, go out for drinks. And you do this in an empty, vain society that constantly tells you that you need improvement. That is love. You don’t need to be force-fed self-love. You love yourself everyday with intention.
Now, you might be saying:
“But what’s wrong with a message of self-love when the world so desperately lacks it? When everyone wonders, sometimes, if they’re being kind enough to themselves?”
I’ll answer you.
The term “self love” is dishonest because it’s a soft-sell in a world hard-selling you insecurity.
Growing up in Flatbush and Bed Stuy taught me that the best drug dealers make their money on the come-back. They can’t profit from the first good feeling they give you. (That’s why most times it’s free of charge.) Instead, they focus on luring you into a system of dependence on the feeling you get when you take that hit. Once they understand why you’ve attached to this feeling, and how the drug recalls it, they do everything to advertise the drug itself as the solution to your problem.
Stressed at work? Take this. Husband got you down, gulp a pill. Maybe two.
Wife despondent? Get something for both of you. A toy, a drug, a bottle, a trip. Whatever’s on sale.
So, tell me, what’s easier to sell than an idea? Especially the kind of idea that has no need for material proof, that is without substance.
Look at this bullsh*t right here. Trash view too.
When the baseline concept of love in the world around you is: don’t eat your own shit, don’t shoot up a school, go to work, order lunch, don’t kill your parents, try not to kill yourself, repeat… It’s incredibly easy to sell you on anything that’s barely a step above ...eating shit.
For instance, meditation assumes a life of its own in the marketplace, popping up in apps, home device settings, AI, coffee shops and playlists. Meditation sells. The mere act of taking deep breaths and exploring the caverns of your thought has a price tag. And depending on who’s buying, it’s fairly expensive to maintain the right to breathe and think consciously.
Ain’t that some shit? The Eastern world closed itself off from us because of specifically this Western-world fuckery. If it can be sold, it will be sold. We are targets of shameless sales promo, for discount love, manufactured in Pakistan at a data mining factory.
What’s more, bullshit is one of the few products with an infinite inventory and even more ways to market it to the gullible and the desperate. In spaces where you need real, substantive solutions and changes, you’ll similarly be told to take care of yourself.
As if...your entire waking existence isn’t devoted to making sure you can step foot into your car tomorrow at 9A and stare down Eileen from Sales without saying ‘FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU, EILEEN AND YOUR QUARTERLY GOALS!’ The employee assistance program you don’t use has a whole pamphlet of resources to outline the support you could have if you only reached out. Nevermind that the company where you work is the sole driver of your misery and the source of your persistent feelings of nothingness. The Institution Of Inadequacy is as intangibly powerful, as insidiously invisible as the Institution Of Racism or the Institution Of Sexism. It operates on the belief that you don’t acknowledge it exists until it’s too late, and your back’s against the wall. You’re in a full nervous frenzy before you realize outside powers have colluded to make you feel like shit, only a step above eating your own.
But I’m here to dispel the myth. Self-love is not a product. It’s a practice. Engage in the practice every day, sure, but make a longer, wider list of what it means to be loving overall. Crying your eyes out and cursing at our government is self-love. Outing and then demolishing your attackers and your bullies is self-love. Touching your face and smiling is self-love. Getting sleep is self-love. Drinking water is self-love.
It’s completely free and you’ve been engaging it as a free body for longer than self-love was on sale. Make yourself a priority and then extend that love and accountability to anyone who’s looking for it. It’s a free commodity that we have so much to share. And please don’t let them catch you on the come-back.