#youhadmeatmarkle

Is anyone else catching salty feelings about the royal wedding? I’ve been unbothered by the hoopla for the most part. The royal family has never been my thing and the wedding just wasn’t capturing my attention. I was more focused on the Markle father storyline, hoping he’d come around, and feeling grateful that I have such a loving and supportive dad.

But, over the weekend, there was no escaping it. From the moment I opened my phone I was bombarded by news from the grand occasion. I suddenly felt anxious that I’d slept through the ceremony, something I promise you I had zero interest in, and started frantically searching for video of the nuptials. I gave up after a few minutes and settled for some style photos on Vogue.com. Everything appeared as it should – absolutely stunning. But it wasn’t making me feel good. I felt like I’d just stalked my ex’s hot new girlfriend’s Instagram, ya know? Salty.

It was as if one glimpse at a crown and a gown and a smiling prince and I was suddenly 6-years-old again watching my Disney on repeat. And the 6-year-old Jessica asks the 35-year-old Jessica WTF happened?! And I feel...for lack of better words ‘bad about myself.’ Like: Why didn’t you make that shit happen?! And, then, I feel sorry for myself. Like: Why can’t that shit be me?! And then… I. Feel. Like. An. Idiot. I judge myself. Like: How could a grown, intelligent woman fall for this shit?! Literally, the most calculated media spectacle in decades. We all know Windsor Castle doesn’t play. I watch The Crown.

The thing is; I’m having the intended reaction. This is what I’m programmed to feel:

Little girls are princesses. One day a prince “picks” you and you live happily ever after. 

Sure, we grow-up and evolve past this, but it’s still in there, deeply ingrained in the inner child. Particularly, if you were as obsessed with Disney as I was. 

So how do we click out of the fantasy and back into our lives without wanting to kill ourselves? Especially when you’re single and dating?

First things first, let’s breakdown the feelings here. That little meltdown I described is me telling myself, I’m not worthy of love. Especially not the love of a “prince.” It sounds simple, and maybe even pathetic to some, but if I’m being honest that’s what I’m telling myself. And it is quite simple. In that moment, I’m ignoring all facts based in reality and believing, “Jessica, you’re unlovable.” And every time I compare myself to someone or something else like the royal wedding, that’s the message I’m subscribing to: I’m not enough. And when you keep it real, real with yourself like that, doesn’t sound very cute. Does it?

It’s not as if the royal wedding has the power to drive me off a cliff. But the unattainable standards it sets do have a depressive effect. Some say its harmless escapism. But any fantasy, if over-indulged, can be harmful because the buy-in to a fantasy is a comparison. That (what you have) is better than this (what I have). Leaving our reality is to say our lives aren’t good enough. And our lives are wonderful.

Luckily, I’m pretty sure we’re out of princes, so this won’t come back around for a while. But there will always be the seemingly perfect couples, the GIANT engagement ring blinding you from the neighboring yoga mat, unrealistic images of wealth, beauty and so on. None of it is going away. And that’s not the solution. Taking airbrushed models off the covers of magazines isn’t going to make me suddenly accept my body in all its glory and imperfection. Inclusion and realistic portrayals of women are necessary but the job of self-acceptance is mine. Besides, I can’t unsee Emily Ratajkowski! She’s fucking everywhere!!

So, yeah, I can’t unsee these things but I can start seeing myself. And I can start acknowledging how loved I actually am. For example, whenever my sister would give me a pep-talk, I’d shrug off her encouragement saying, “That doesn’t count. You have to love me, you’re my sister!” First of all, that’s a horrible thing to say. No love could ever replace my sister’s or count more in my life. And, also, no. She really doesn’t have to love me. And she certainly doesn’t have to show-up for me, in the way she makes an effort to do, every single day. And when I can take a moment to appreciate this, I feel so lucky. Her love gives me the major feels – tease all you want!

Even if you don’t have a sibling per se, you have someone in your life who loves you -- a friend, parent, colleague, partner. Whoever is showing up for you, take a moment to acknowledge it. It’s a simple shift in perspective. But the more I tap into the love that I do have rather than what I don’t, the easier it is to reason with pesky comparisons. The evidence of my “lovability” (if you will) is clear and substantiated. I can finally see and actually feel all the love that surrounds me. I realize its always there, if I have the presence to open to it. 

This understanding helps me develop the most important source of love we have: self-love. I don’t just say I love myself in an egotistical manner or a flippant, defensive way. I actually know what it feels like because I reason with it all day, err day. I accept that it takes work to manage my fears and insecurities and I'm not crazy or lame for getting a little caught-up in something like the royal wedding. I have the compassion and presence of mind to say, “This is so normal. But, it’s a bit silly, girl. This is the reality of your beautiful life, so let’s get back to it.” And, then, I go to Yogaworks and treat myself to a 4-hour workshop, a practice in self-care, with one of the people I get so much love from. (P.S. Ruah Yoga is the bomb!) 

The result of doing this work is that there’s no need for escapism. There’s no need for a fairytale. I understand there’s no such thing -- even for Meghan and Harry -- nothing is ever as it seems.

P.S. This is not a commentary on the wedding or the couple. I have always had a crush on Harry and honestly, they seem adorable together. It’s all fabulous!

Still, there’s nothing like falling in love. Awakening that unique place in our hearts is a feeling like no other. And I miss it. So, watching a blockbuster wedding go down on the world stage, is a trigger to that longing. And that feeling (pesky, uncool longing) is so uncomfortable I want to immediately push it away with cynicism or blaming because to irrationally assume I will die alone is easier to reconcile than the uncertainty of my “relationship status.”

So I have to remember that it’s perfectly natural to long for love and also know I’m OK just as I am, on my own. The woe is me feeling is much trickier than the Beyoncé “Flawless” side of this duality. But, I can’t erase it, so I make room for both, holding the two feelings simultaneously. 

And, for the first time in my life, I accept that a romantic relationship may not come. It may come and go or it could sweep me off my feet. But it won’t be the relationship that defines IF I feel loved because I know I am. I’ve learned that love comes in many forms and each are equally fulfilling and valuable. The key is to not hold one in greater esteem than the others. I don’t give one relationship the power to define my worthiness. And thus I’m able to accept and appreciate where I am in this moment and look to the future with curiosity instead of entitlement and expectations.