Unlikeable

I had a bad dream last night.  It was about something that’s been nagging at me lately–something I think I’ve tried to stuff away but is now rearing it’s head and won’t stop until I deal with it.

I really don’t like dealing with this topic.  It hurts to feel it.  But, maybe it’s time for me to feel it fully and then let it go, so here goes.

As long as I can remember, I have felt unliked and unlikeable.

Now, I don’t want to place blame on anyone or anything for this belief.  I’ve created the belief and hung onto it for almost 40 years.  The experiences I’ve had have served a karmic purpose. I must, however, acknowledge that in my family of origin, I didn’t feel liked, and often times, I did not feel loved.  I was criticized a great deal.  I was shamed and yelled at. When I expressed myself–my beliefs, feelings, style, likes and dislikes–I was rejected and shamed.

For as long as I can remember, I have believed that something was wrong with me and that I was essentially flawed and unacceptable.  Not just to my parents, but to the world.  If my parents didn’t like me, then how could anyone else? (I am pretty sure they like me now, for the most part.)

This is the painful belief I have to process now, just in time for my 40th birthday.