Self-Esteem Humor
Get On The Love Bus
How to kiss your own ass

Changing how you see yourself is The Next Big Thing. Nobody’s doing it, but everybody should. Everybody is stuck in the Woe is Me Era. That’s so 2020. Get on the bus, peeps. Self-love is in the air.
In my youth, there was a bus I would occasionally happen upon, called The Love Bus. It was a regular bus that took you downtown, but it transported the passengers with love. The bus driver was blissfully joyous. The bus was decorated with streamers and hearts. Calypso music bounced off the walls and floated out the windows. Everyone on The Love Bus looked like they were on their way to a utopic destination, feeling lucky that The Love Bus was taking them there.
I think of The Love Bus when I think about how we look at ourselves in the mirror. The bus wasn’t magical, but it altered your point of view. ‘Must be a good day,’ you thought. ‘The Love Bus picked me up.’
Instead of looking in the mirror and counting your millions of oily pores, look in the mirror, like you’re on The Love Bus. Say to your reflection, “Good to be you.”
If you look in the mirror and see some loser schlub, who seems like you have nothing to brag about, fake it till you make it! That’s right, you heard me, lie to yourself.
What? You don’t want to lie to yourself? But, dah-link, you already are. You've been telling yourself you’re not worth a fly-on-shit, haven't you?
And that ain’t true. So freaky Friday that baloney sandwich. Turn that talking yourself down, all the way around. Get out your protector and 180 degree that self-loathing flotsam.
Still struggling? You been hating on yourself too long to quit it? I get it. Here’s a tip. Self-perception is about rewriting the script. Flip that narrative! The previous character you were playing looked in the mirror every morning and said, “Blech. Redo.”
But the writers came back from dinner break, rewrote your part, and gave your character a makeover. Your new self looks in the mirror and says, “Damn girl, where did you come from?”
You need to learn to kiss your own ass the way you’ve always kissed everyone else's ass. Turn your lips around to your own tush. You get me?
Still having trouble getting into character? Let me be your acting coach. Have a seat. Listen.
“Let’s say that person in the mirror has something you want. You gotta kiss her ass to get it.”
“Now, say you want that person in the mirror is some cool person you wanna hang with. You better butter her up. Compliment her hair. Laugh at her jokes.”
“Pretend that person in the mirror is someone you want to set up with your most successful amazing friend. Or maybe that person in the mirror is someone you’d want to spend every waking moment with. Time to kiss some ass. Time to lay on the thick compliments. Be shameless. Tell that mirror everything amazing about herself.”
Good news. You’re the person in the mirror.
Still can’t reach your lips to your own ass? Still think other people’s asses are more valuable and more sanitary than your own?
Dah-link! Sit with me. Put your head on my lap. Let me brush that beautiful hair. Let me soothe that gorgeous spirit. That person in the mirror is not your enemy. That person in the mirror is not even your frenemy. That person in the mirror is someone you only want the very best for.
If that person were a theater person, you'd sit in the front row of all their plays. If that person were a comedian, you’d take the heckler out back and knock’m upside the head. If that person were an athlete, you’d be cheering in the stands, shaking that big old #1 finger with their name on it.
Dah-link. Look at your reflection through my rose-colored glasses. Wear’m until your self-love burns a hole into your retinas. In the meantime, get on the damn Love Bus.