Of the long lost love for "I"

As a result of many fruitful discussions I have had at work, I will now meditate on some of the questions that have then popped up in my head. Let's say this is a tribute to my now former work place and my wonderful former co-workers.

As children, we consider ourselves beautiful, cute, extraordinary, special and all in all wonderful. We do not think of ourselves as ugly, fat, stupid, pathetic, nor incomplete in all possible aspects.

Is this because as children we are perfect and grow up to be so flawed or just because the expectations for us change as we grow older? I mean, a person once so innocent, sweet and pretty cannot possibly become as hiddeous of a being as we think we are. Or can we?

It is undeniable that we do more things that hurt others when we grow older. We get more selfish. The natural balance that comes so easily as a child seems to get disrupted very easily as years go by. But howcome we get so self-conscious? Where does all this self-hatered come from?

When you tell a little child that you are so cute, their instant reply is "I know am" or something of the sort. Nothing like the fastest reply that can be produced by an awkward grown-up, which is something like: "No I'm not... no.. stop saying stuff like that". When did we become so pessimistic about ourselves?

I for one have the tendency to joke about myself in terms of being beautiful and wonderful. I make up for the lack of self-esteem with sarcastic jokes about my beauty and wonder. It is in a sense to cover up the self-doubt that lives within. But as children we do not make sarcastic jokes about ourselves like this. When a 4-year-old says "Darn, I'm cute!" s/he is dead serious. I wish I could have that back. That genuine love for myself, which hasn't been contaminated by absurd expectations from the surrounding world.

Then again, there are days when I do look into the mirror and see myself for who I really am and I can sincerely tell myself that I love myself just as I am. Most of the time even that wonderous moment of at-onement with the universe can be utterly wrecked by other people. Darn it, maybe I should not leave the house at all then.

Wouldn't it be great to be able to live in your own little world with your own standards for things. It would not include people who bring you down but only people who assure you of your feelings of being a loveable creature. You could for ever hold onto that peace of mind and remain as innocent and sweet as you were on the day you were born.

Shit. Why isn't anything fun possible these days?!