The Art of Loving Yourself
/By Melat Amha, produced by Out There Podcast
Released on December 2, 2021
Welcome to Out There Podcast. Our stories are written for the ear, so for those able, we recommend listening while reading along. Transcripts may contain minor errors; please check the audio before quoting.
WILLOW BELDEN: Hey everyone, happy December!
I gotta say, it’s not feeling very wintry where I live at the moment. But it is the time of year when a lot of us start to think about winter sports.
If you’re into downhill skiing or snowboarding, I want to tell you about an app that can help you plan out your trips. The app is called PeakVisor, and they’re one of our sponsors.
You’ve probably heard me talk about them on previous episodes. The PeakVisor app helps you figure out what mountains you’re looking at when you’re out on adventures.
But that’s not the only thing this app does. When you use PeakVisor in winter mode, it’ll give you ski resort schedules and lift statuses in real time. You can see opening times and current availability of every major ski resort in the U.S.
If you want to take some of the guesswork out of your winter outings, download PeakVisor in the app store. You just might love it.
(Out There theme music begins to play)
Hi, I’m Willow Belden, and you’re listening to Out There, the podcast that explores big questions through intimate stories outdoors.
To start things off, I wanted to let you know that we are giving away FREE Out There stickers, as well as a gift card to REI.To get a free sticker, and be entered into the drawing for that gift card, all you have to do is take our listener survey.
The survey takes about 10 minutes, and we’re doing it because we want to get to know you a little better. Because knowing who you are helps us produce stories that will make a difference in your life.
To take the survey, just click the link in the episode description, or go to outtherepodcast.com.
(theme music fades out)
Today’s story is about love.
When you think of love...what comes to mind? You probably start off by imagining a happy couple. Love at first sight. Two people developing affection for each other over time. Or maybe you think about the love between a parent and their child. Or the love between friends.
But there’s another kind of love out there: love for yourself.
We often hear that self-love is important. But what does that kind of love really look like? And how do you practice it?
Melat Amha recently had a series of experiences that forced her to grapple with those very questions. On this episode, she’s going to take us from urban LA to a farm in the Sierra National Forest, and tell you the story of how she changed her perspective on nearly everything.
I’ll let Melat take it from here.
MELAT AMHA: As long as I can remember, I’ve had a voice in my head pointing out my defects.
(background music begins to play)
I had thoughts circling around that I couldn’t do this or that. There were these internal whispers that I was less than, or defective. I had torturous memories that confirmed that I was stupid.
Most of that time, I wasn’t even aware of the diminishing self talk. It had just been playing in the background for so long that I didn’t really notice. Then last year, I became aware of the voice in my head.
(music continues for a few moments and then fades out)
My journey started in 2012, when I got a mild case of food poisoning. Or at least, that’s what I thought it was until the symptoms never went away. At first it wasn’t so bad and I mostly ignored it.
But by mid-2016, I was a mess. I was dealing with extreme memory issues to the point that I couldn’t remember what I’d just read. I was always exhausted, and my thinking was cloudy and confused. It was like my head space was bogged down in molasses. I had constant heartburn that I mistook for hunger, so I ate a lot. People would congratulate me because they thought I was pregnant, but I was just permanently bloated.
Before all this started, I was used to running seven miles a day, six days a week. But now, I was overweight and unable to build muscle.
(soft, haunting music begins)
I became a shadow of my former self.
I went to the doctor. Many, many doctors. Conventional doctors, alternative doctors…but none of them could give me satisfying answers.
I was told that the heartburn was caused by stomach acid washing up into my esophagus. Ok, but why is it doing that? They didn’t know.
They explained that the food sensitivities were likely caused by food particles escaping my gut and causing my immune system to freak out. Sure, but why are there suddenly holes in my intestine? Again, nothing. I wanted to know the root cause, but that was exactly what nobody could tell me.
(music fades out)
Instead, they prescribed antibiotics and antacids. None of which helped.
They also suggested special diets, which I tried. My choice of what to eat was so restricted that I was forced to food prep religiously. I had to carry all my day’s meals with me in a big cooler bag. I almost went crazy trying to stick to all the diets, and they didn’t even help. It was nothing short of traumatizing.
(pensive music begins)
Throughout all of this, I was in college working toward a degree in chemistry. I wasn’t excited about it, but felt I was in too deep to quit. I had recently gotten married, and felt like I needed to get a good job so I could provide for my household. My parents generously offered to help with my expenses while I was in school, and I didn’t take that lightly. I desperately wanted to prove to myself and the world that I could finish college. All because I felt so inadequate.
(music fades out)
But being a full-time student and holding down three part-time jobs — while you’re trying to deal with chronic health problems — was practically impossible.
By winter 2018, I felt completely drained physically and emotionally. I had just one semester left before graduation, and I could almost taste the sweet satisfaction of that accomplishment. But I was terrified that the extra effort that it would take might actually kill me.
I wanted to quit so badly. But I worried that if I dropped out, I might never go back. Then I’d never earn enough money, and my parents would be disappointed, and my husband might leave me. I already felt useless, and if I didn’t graduate, I’d be even more useless.
(hushed music begins)
So I kept pushing through that final semester.
Maybe my health would improve when I finished school, I thought. Well…it didn’t.
So, post graduation, I made an appointment to see a highly recommended specialist. The hope was that this doctor would give me the time and attention that all the doctors before hadn’t. I sent her my medical history and requested that she review it before our meeting. I was sure to mention that I’d pay for any extra time she took on my case.
(music fades out)
On the appointed day, my husband and I made our way to the doctor’s office. She invited us to sit down, then put on her glasses and picked up a stack of papers. As she flipped through the pages, I tried to decide if she was looking at my health records for the first time or just referencing them to jog her memory.
But soon it didn’t matter, because she gave me the same kind of blanket diagnosis that everyone else had. The kind they give a patient when they don’t know what they have, and they’re out of tests.
(melancholy music begins)
She said that my condition didn’t seem to put me in danger of dying anytime soon, but that I would probably always have it. She suggested that I give up on a cure and focus on managing my symptoms.
There was a sinking feeling in my chest. My face got hot as I tried to blink back tears. As soon as we walked out onto the street a few minutes later, I fell apart.
My husband looked at me, confused. He reminded me that the doctor had just said that I would live. I felt like he was missing the point. I didn’t WANT to live like this.
After a few minutes, he nudged me to straighten up because we had plans to meet with a friend, and so I wiped my tears, shoved my despair deep down, and faked light-heartedness. I was a pro at it by then.
(music fades out)
By the time 2019 rolled around, I felt hopeless and depressed. Whenever I was alone, I was crying. I cried during my long commute to work every morning. I cried at lunch time while eating the food I’d packed in my cooler bag. I cried while meal prepping for hours each evening. And I cried in bed while trying to keep everything, including the bedsheet, from touching my painfully swollen belly. I was like a zombie, with rotting insides and all, trying to pass as human.
(gentle piano music begins)
One day, I broke down and shared what I was going through with my friend Olja. She listened carefully, then offered up an idea that she thought might help. She reminded me of a work exchange program I’d heard about some years back. You could learn to grow organic food by helping out on a farm in exchange for room and board. This idea felt like how a lifesaver might to a drowning person. It was like I suddenly saw a possibility of goodness ahead, and I had reason to press on.
(music fades out)
I had always been interested in growing food. I’d enjoyed harvesting fruits and veggies from the gardens outside of my apartments. And foraging for mushrooms was one of my most favorite activities. In the back of my mind, I had even envisioned having a small-scale farm of my own one day.
I also loved the idea of eating freshly grown organic food. I was worried that the pesticides and pollution might be making my condition worse. But getting food, air, and water that are pesticide and pollution free — in a city — was impossible.
(laid-back music begins)
By March my husband and I had decided to make the move to a farm on an 80-acre plot within the Sierra National Forest. I couldn’t wait.
That visit to the specialist had been the last straw. I had completely given up on the idea that guidance for my healing could come from the outside. It had forced me to turn inwards and ask my spirit what was wrong. I felt that the peace and quiet of farm life would be the perfect place for my self-inquiry.
I counted down the days to when I would no longer have to commute, no longer have to go grocery shopping nearly every day, no longer have to worry about coming up with rent money. I dreamt of bathing in all the green colors of the forest and digging my hands into the cool, crumbly soil.
Sure, I’d still have to work, but it would be spirit reviving work. It would be the kind of work that I hoped would bring me back to life. I would finally be doing something that sounded fun. Something just for me. Not for my husband. Not for my parents.
It just felt...so right.
WILLOW: Hey, it’s Willow. We’ll hear the rest of the story in a moment. But first, I want to tell you about something astonishing that happened to me recently.
I had ordered some new clothing. And I was looking forward to getting it, but I wasn’t holding my breath. I mean, usually when I order things online, a lot of it doesn’t fit.
So on this occasion, I opened the package...
(rustling sounds)
And I tried on one of the new tops….and it fit beautifully. And I tried on another top. And it also fit perfectly. And then I tried on a pair of tights. And lo and behold, they fit amazingly well too!
WILLOW: Okay this may be a first. I am not sure that I have ever had an experience where everything that I ordered fit well, looked nice, and was comfy.
WILLOW: These clothes all came from a company called tentree. Tentree is one of our sponsors. They sell eco-friendly clothing. And for every item you buy, they plant ten trees.
To get 15% off your first order, go to tentree.com and enter the promo code “OUTTHERE” at checkout. That’s T-E-N-tree-dot-com, promo code OUTTHERE.
And now, back to the story.
MELAT: The day we arrived at the farm happened to be the day of their annual farm party.
(cheerful music begins)
There was food, drinks, live music, over a hundred friends of the farm, and a handful of fellow work exchange volunteers. I felt enormously relieved to have left the stress of my old life behind.
The next seven months were blissful. Weekday mornings, we were out in the field prepping, planting, and harvesting. At noon we’d head up to the main house where we’d eat a big group lunch with goodies from the land while telling stories, cracking jokes, and laughing until our faces hurt.
In the afternoon, we’d hike to the creek that ran through the farm. We’d take turns jumping into the pools of cool mountain water. Then we’d lie on the large, sun-heated slabs of stone nearby to dry. On Saturdays I’d wake up early to attend a cacao ceremony followed by a primal yoga session at a waterfall down the street.
The 23-hour work week left me plenty of time to just be.
(music fades out)
My health problems didn’t go away, but so many of the internal pressures that had been weighing on me were lifted. I’d given up obsessing about what I was eating, drinking, and breathing because the farm was remote and as pristine as it gets. My inner chemist was enormously relieved.
The bloating went down a little. I even felt pretty clear headed a few times. I was grateful for those moments of relief. I almost had forgotten what it felt like.
(soothing music begins)
I was determined to think less about my health, to stop trying to figure it out and just listen instead. Listen to my instinct, the voice of wisdom that I had discounted and suppressed for so long.
Most mornings, I would clear my mind and meditate on the sunrise before the day’s work. I would sit creak-side, close my eyes and pay close attention to each distinct sound of trickling water.
(sound of trickling water)
I concentrated on the warm sensation of the light on my skin. And then I would look inward and pose questions to myself. I would ask my body, “What are you trying to tell me?”
It was kind of hard to figure out which of the voices in my head I should listen to, but over time I sensed a subtle message coming through. It seemed to be saying I should let time pass and just be. And I obeyed.
To be clear, I wasn’t hearing any actual voices; more like silencing the static and paying attention to an inner expression of my true needs.
(sound of running water and music ends)
And then, a few months later, something happened. Something that helped make sense of all my years of struggle.
(soft music begins)
I had taken up long walks with my childhood friend, Marko. And one day, he told me he’d also dealt with chronic illness. He suffered from symptoms like excruciating pain in his right hip and intense breathing problems for 10 years.
Hearing that made me feel much less alone. I had spent so long trying to explain to people what I was going through. And nobody really understood. Even the people who were closest to me didn’t get it. And that feeling of being misunderstood was almost the worst part of my whole experience.
So, realizing that Marko COULD relate was an answered prayer. Finally, I had someone who didn’t need any explanations. I could rest in that mutual understanding.
(music fades out)
Then he said something magical. He told me that he’d healed himself. HEALED HIMSELF! I was just like, “Wait, what? How…how did you heal yourself?” I almost couldn’t get the questions out fast enough.
(piano music begins)
He said that after nine years of trying all kinds of healing modalities that didn’t work, he’d totally given up. He had decided to accept the fact that he might be dying.
But facing the possibility of his own death head-on turned out to be liberating. He was surprised to find that he wasn’t even afraid to die. Instead, he felt super relaxed and clear headed. He started to think about how he’d want to spend his last days. All he wanted was to feel pure joy and excitement, every moment until his last one.
(music fades out)
The next morning, he noticed something that at first seemed unimportant. When he was a kid, his friends teased him because he was uncircumcised. He got so insecure about it, that he developed a daily habit of pulling his foreskin back. It became as mindless as blinking, but this time, it caught his attention for some reason.
Suddenly he realized he didn’t care anymore. If he was going to die soon, what did it matter what other people thought of him? So he just stopped. Stopped pulling his foreskin back. Stopped worrying what others might think.
And lo and behold, the chronic, debilitating hip pain that he’d been experiencing for nine years just disappeared.
(music begins)
This was a major turning point for him, because now that his hip wasn’t constantly hurting, he could start playing basketball again, a sport he’d always loved to play when he was younger.
He started to think that healing was more about letting go of habits of thinking and behaving. So over the next year, he worked on identifying other habits that might be detrimental — other things he was doing that stemmed from insecurity. And as he let those habits go, his other symptoms faded away too. It wasn’t overnight, but today he’s 100% healthy and thriving.
(music fades out)
This revelation was mind-blowing to me. His experience validated my hunch that all the answers were inside of me.
(contemplative music begins)
Our conversation sparked a whole line of introspective inquiry. Could it be that my condition stemmed from the way I had been thinking about myself? Was I sick because of the self-diminishing thoughts that played in my head like a broken record?
The events of the past few years started running through my head. I had gone back to school and forced myself to finish college because of crippling self-doubt. Because of a sense of obligation. Because of shame and fear. I was afraid to disappoint, afraid I would fail to pay back, afraid I wouldn’t live up to expectations. I was trying hard to please those around me and live by other people’s values. The more I worked to be seen as worthy and valuable to others, the more I felt stressed, anxious, and sick.
Moving to the farm had been the first thing I had done that was different. It was the first thing I had done for me. My time there had helped me discover my passion for working with the land and growing food. And my illness hadn’t gone away, but it was already a little better.
The second thing I had done for me was begin to explore my love for music by starting to play the piano again. Piano was something I had always enjoyed growing up, and picking it up again now as an adult felt wonderful.
All these choices were inspired by something deep inside of me. They were motivated by self-trust, curiosity, and the promise of joy. I was listening to myself, showing love for myself, taking a chance on myself...and that was paying off. I was finding adventure, excitement, soul nourishment and even a bit of healing. My body seemed to be rewarding me for these self-affirming behaviors.
(music fades out)
Around this time, I read a book called The Art of Loving by Erich Fromm. In it, he argued that loving is an art. Like any other art, loving well requires a few essential components: care, knowledge, responsibility and respect. He explained that the only way to love another person well is to first cultivate love for yourself.
(serene music begins)
This was the catalyst that I needed.
For my birthday last year, I gifted myself a regular journaling practice, and it’s been a total game changer. I record my daily experiences, what I’m thinking and how I’m feeling. I imagine my ideal life in as much detail as possible and give thanks for the ways in which I’m supported in my journey. Writing helps me see myself more clearly, spot destructive patterns, and reorient myself.
A year ago, I purchased a ring and wrote vows to myself. I promised that I would always take the time to listen to and consider what I want and need. I resolved to have faith in my gut feelings. I committed to seek inner validation instead of external approval. And I decided that I would allow others to grow to appreciate me, instead of desperately working to win their love. I could go on, but I won’t risk getting too sappy.
Eventually, my mind and spirit started to feel lighter. It was a feeling that reminded me of childhood.
(music grows quieter and then changes tone)
These days I live on a shared piece of land in Southern California, and a few months ago I started a small-scale farm to table project. I sell the produce to my land mates, neighbors, and friends. My room opens to my garden, just like I imagined it would in my ideal life. Watching my plants grow and cultivating local relationships is such a special pleasure.
Evenings, I dedicate a chunk of time to exploring my endless fascination with music. I work on developing a playlist-sharing podcast of my own. I learn new songs to sing, and practice on both keyboard and bass guitar. I’ve sung a cappella at open mics on several occasions, so far. And I’m even trying my hand at writing my own songs.
Feel free to picture me rubbing my hands together with sheer overflowing eagerness at the wonders that lie ahead.
Oh, yeah…and I’m healthy. While I’ll probably never pinpoint exactly why I’ve recovered, for me health came as a byproduct of joy. Part and parcel of self love.
(music continues for a few moments and then fades out)
WILLOW BELDEN: That was Melat Amha. Melat was one of our production interns this summer. She lives in California, and as she mentioned in her story, she’s looking to start a podcast of her own.
Special thanks to Barn Time Podcast for letting us use their studio to record Melat’s narration. Barn Time is a multimedia podcast produced out of a backyard barn in San Diego, California. They’re part of a multimedia collective aimed at empowering artists and supporting a culture of creativity. You can check them out at barntimemusic.com.
(folksy music begins)
Before you go, I want to share some exciting news: this February, we are going to be launching a brand new season of Out There!
Don’t worry — we’re not changing the format of the podcast. We’ll still be telling the kind of introspective outdoor stories you know and love. We’re just grouping those stories around a common theme, so we can dive deep and — hopefully — make a real difference in your life.
To give you a sneak peak, the theme for our new season is “Things I Thought I Knew.”
Each episode will explore that theme in some way. The stories will take us from the Appalachian Trail, to a beach in Washington State, to the streets of Boston. There’s even one piece that involves Live Action Role Play. So, it’s fair to say we’re going to cover a wide variety of topics.
But there’s also a common thread. Each story will show how an outdoor experience uncovered new truths. New truths about ourselves. About our humanity. And about our world.
The season kicks off in early February, and we’ll have more updates as we get closer to then. But for now, I just wanted to let you know that this is coming up. And I also wanted to let you know that we’ll be taking a little break right before the new season launches. I’ll have more on that in our next episode, so tune in on December 16 to hear the latest.
(music fades out)
On our last episode, we brought you a story about fairness in running. We introduced you to a runner from Uganda, named Annet Negesa. Annet is intersex. Even though she’s a woman, she was born with internal testes. And as a result, her testosterone levels were unusually high for a woman. Because of the high testosterone, Annet was not allowed to compete in the Olympics as a woman.
But it now looks like things may be changing.
The same week that our story came out, the International Olympic Committee (or IOC) released a new framework aimed at making sports more inclusive and fair. The framework seeks to ensure that - quote - “athletes are not excluded soleley on the basis of their transgender identity or sex variations.” End quote.
The framework goes on to say that athletes should not have to undergo the kind of targeted testing that Annet was subjected to. Testing to determine their sex, their gender identity, or sex variations.
The IOC also acknowledges that it’s important to keep competitions fair. Nobody wants a system where certain athletes have an unfair advantage. But they’re now urging sports federations to take an evidence-based approach when they’re establishing rules about who can participate, and in which category. They argue that we shouldn’t simply assume athletes have unfair advantages because of sex variations or transgender status.
The new IOC framework was built after a two-year consultation process with more than 250 athletes and other concerned stakeholders, including Annet Negesa and another voice you heard on our episode, Dr. Payoshni Mitra.
I should note that this framework is just that — a framework. These are not regulations. The IOC is leaving it up to the governing bodies for each sport to make the actual rules about inclusion. But this is still a change from previous messaging. It’s a clear call to make elite sports more inclusive, and to ensure that all athletes — regardless of who they are — feel safe and welcomed.
If you’d like to learn more, I have a link to the IOC’s new framework in the show notes. And of course, if you missed our last episode, where we tell Annet’s story, go ahead and check it out. It’s called “In the Name of Fairness.”
(brief musical interlude)
Support for Out There comes from PeakVisor. PeakVisor is an app that helps you make the most of your adventures in the mountains.
One of the things they offer is 3D maps to help you plan out your trip. And recently, they updated these maps, so they’re now ultra-high resolution. That means you can see tons of detail — down to individual trees. It’s almost like going for a helicopter ride over the area you want to explore.
Once you’re out on a hike, you can use the app to figure out what you’re looking at. For example, maybe you see a mountain in the distance, and you want to know what it is. PeakVisor will tell you.
If you’d like your own personal mountain guide, check out PeakVisor in the app store. You just might love it.
(Out There theme music begins)
As I mentioned at the top of the episode, we’d love to get to know you a little better. So we put together an audience survey. I’d be so grateful if you’d take 10 minutes to fill it out. You can find the link in the episode notes. And after you complete the survey, I’ll send you a free Out There sticker and enter you into a drawing for a chance to win an REI gift card. Thank you so much.
Thank you also to Cathy Rotman, Phil Timm, Doug Frick, Tara Joslin, and Deb and Vince Garcia for their financial contributions to Out There. If you’re interested in supporting the show as well, go to outtherepodcast.com and click the support tab.
That’s it for this episode. Our advertising manager is Jessica Taylor. Our audience growth director is Sheeba Joseph. Cara Schaefer is our print content coordinator. Our ambassadors are Tiffany Duong, Ashley White, and Stacia Bennet. And our theme music was written by Jared Arnold.
We’ll see you in two weeks.
(theme music ends on a last whistling note)
