I feel a strong sense of my own intrinsic value. I'm proud of myself, I love myself, I believe I'm worthy of love and belonging from others, and I believe my existence is itself sacred, possessing an unquantifiable value which cannot be given or taken away by anyone. These beliefs are the foundation of my resilience and determination to keep going.
But I'm often angry about what I see as culturally agreed-upon markers of extrinsic human value, many of which are impossible or highly improbable for me, or they're things that I just plain don't want. It creates a very uncomfortable dissonance in which I have a solid sense of my self-worth, but in the eyes of society I'm essentially a failure or a second-class citizen at best.
One example is fertility. I recently had a hysterectomy, it was long overdue, and I'm thrilled with the results thus far. It's drastically reduced the amount of pain I live with on a daily basis, and given me a new lease on life. I'll actually be able to get a better job now. I'll be able to meet or even exceed my fitness goals. I don't have to take pain medication to exercise or have sex anymore. I can make plans and reasonably trust that my body won't ruin them. Win/win, cause for celebration, right? Except for all the looks of pity I get now. "Oh, I'm so sorry, that's so sad, didn't you want children?" As if my prior suffering was nothing, as if I'm never really going to be a whole person, as if my intrinsic value has somehow been lessened, as if no one in their right mind could ever possibly make peace (let alone be happy) with the decision to forfeit their fertility. I can be happy for other people having children, and I can be happy that I won't be having them myself -- those views aren't mutually exclusive. What I'm not happy about is the unrelenting social expectation that I ought to feel bad about my "condition" instead of celebrating it.
Another example is having a car. I live with PTSD related to long-term childhood abuse, much of which occurred when my Dad would take me for car rides. Subsequently as an adult, I dislike them intensely. When I tried to get my license in high school, I experienced flashbacks while driving that rendered me unaware of my surroundings -- comparable to driving drunk. It's obviously a safety hazard and I shouldn't be behind the wheel. There's also the fact that I just plain don't like cars and I've never wanted one -- I know I wouldn't take care of it. Also, as a witch, environmental ethics play heavily into my belief system, and I see fossil fuel-powered vehicles as harmful to living creatures and the Earth. They're something to be discouraged, but instead our culture demands car ownership as a normal part of adulthood. I have no desire to contribute my hard-earned money to the fossil fuel industry if I can avoid it. I also know that people in my income bracket statistically have compromised health outcomes partially due to lack of education about and opportunities for regular exercise. All of these factors combined mean that I ride a bicycle or walk to get around and I'm super fucking proud of it. While other people are vain about their vehicles, I'm vain about all the money I've saved from not buying gas, my reduced carbon footprint, my outstanding blood pressure levels, and my ability to commit to solutions which make the most sense for me. And yet, just like with being childless, this is an endless source of misguided pity and dehumanization from other people, and my happiness with my decisions is met with utter disbelief.
I have similar perspectives about home ownership, career choices, biological family members, and the desire to accumulate wealth. I like myself, I like my life, I know what I want and need -- I just wish that people weren't continually vomiting pity at me for it, or trying to undermine my choices because they're not "normal." It's fucked up.