i was walking with the pup this morning when my foot slipped on the ice. down i fell, plop, splat, thud, onto my back on the snow-and-ice-covered road.

as i picked myself up and brushed myself off, there was a brief instant when i was no longer the me who identifies with her physical body. instead, i was the me who encompasses that me. i watched my body brush itself off, and i felt this incredible wave of love rush through me.

the thought that ran through my mind was this: why should my stumbles be any less worthy of love?

i thought of my little nephew learning to walk and how very much i love him. not because he stumbles. not in spite of his stumbles. i love him because he’s lars and he wouldn’t be the same without all of his moments.

i thought of atlas and how i don’t tell him that he’s a bad dog. i say, “i am furious at you.” i say, “i don’t like what you’re doing.” i say, “i don’t like you very much right now.” but i tell him, and i hope he knows, that i also love him. not because of those moments. not in spite of those moments. i love him – more than the sun and the moon and all the fish in the sea – because he’s atlas and he is who he is because of all of his moments.

i’ve been practicing self-love for years now.

sometimes i wonder how i got here, and whether i have learned something that can be of service to others, because the place i came from was so full of loathing and the place i am in is so full of love.

but i don’t know how i got here. i can’t pinpoint one practice or one book or one insight.

all i can see is that it was a collection of moments.

moments when i behaved with love and kindness: toward myself, toward another; moments when i didn’t.

moments when i liked the reasons i behaved with love and kindness; moments when i didn’t.

moments when i could forgive myself for the reasons i didn’t behave with love and kindness; moments when i couldn’t.

moments when i made different (more aligned) choices; moments when i didn’t.

after each moment, whether i realized it or not, i picked myself up, dusted myself off, and moved into the next moment.

i did that today.

i’ll do it again tomorrow.

and i do know that i wouldn’t be the same me without every single one of my moments.

{This post is part of the Unencumbered Sharing Circle, a gathering of honest first-hand stories about self-loathing, self-love, and the journey between the two. Read more stories, and share your own, right here.}