Tips & Tools For Stepping Out Of
Self-Hatred Into Self-Love
Hating Myself Every Step
Of The Way
By
Tomi Llama
Also by
Tomi Llama (Dr. Tomi White Bryan)
The 5 Keys to the Great Life
by Dr. Jerry T. White and Dr. Tomi W. Bryan
What’s Your Superpower?
by Tomi Llama
The Tomi Llama Purpose Guide: Emotional
Maturity as a Path to Your Divine Purpose
by Tomi Llama
Hating Myself Every Step
Of The Way
Tips & Tools for Stepping Out of
Self-Hatred into Self-Love
By
Tomi Llama
Copyright © 2020 by Dr. Tomi White Bryan
ISBN: 978-1-71652-902-3
The author of this book does not engage in counseling or prescribe the use
of any activities as a form of or as a substitute for professional medical or
counseling advice. The intent of the author is to offer general information that
contributes to your emotional well-being. How you elect to use the information
provided in this book is your personal choice. If you feel you are in any danger of causing yourself or others harm, please reach out to the appropriate
healthcare professional. Your well-being is important to the Tomi Llama team.
To my mother Janie White.
Without a front row seat to your story of self-hatred, I
would have never been able to make friends with mine.
Contents
Foreword
Preface: Thoughts on This Part of the Journey
Introduction: A Flawed View of Ourselves
1
3
5
PART 1: MY MOTHER’S STORY
It’s Time to Stop Pretending
The Ending is Usually Some Sort of Beginning
9
11
15
PART II: TOOLS FOR HONORING YOUR STORY
And Then, She Spewed All Over Me!
What is Love From the Flow of Love?
It’s the Law of Resonance, Silly
Freeing the Trapped Energy
31
33
41
53
55
PART III: TOOLS FOR WRITING A NEW STORY
Writing a New Story
When the Force is Strong
Learning to Love Yourself Again
It’s All Still Here
77
79
87
95
101
Endnotes
Glossary
About the Author
103
107
111
Hating Myself Every Step of The Way
1
Foreword
This little book conveys a HUGE insight.
Most everyone I know—including myself—experienced some form of drama or trauma as a childhood
“wound” growing up. For some it may have been feeling
unloved from scolding parents, for others it may have been
competing for attention, for others it could be feeling abandoned or neglected, and for others it could be emotional,
spiritual, and/or physical abuse. The forms can range from
mild to severe.
Unexamined or unhealed, that woundedness can
fester in adulthood and fuel relationships characterized by
what I call the “Dreaded Drama Triangle (DDT)” and its
roles of Victim, Persecutor and Rescuer.1
Those roles are not just the ways we can show up
in our relationships with others, it is how we can show up
in our relationship with ourselves. We all have within us an
“inner DDT.” Contained therein is the “inner-Persecutor,”
that voice of self-criticism and, when full blown, self-hatred.
That inner dynamic, then, sets the stage for manrelationships and behaviors. It also can be passed on to
future generations through our actions.
That is the insight that Tomi Llama explores in this
surprisingly HOPEFUL book. Yes, hopeful. For, as she so
powerfully points out, this hatred is an energy that can be
unleashed and redirected when its purpose is uncovered
and offered – both inwardly and outwardly – in love.
Tomi observes that,
When you can come to love your personal
2
Foreword
story of how the absence of love created
the self-hatred and shaped you into the
amazing human you are today, you release
the trapped energy so it can propel you into
Brilliant. And in so doing, you can then accept, honor, and
embrace your Creator essence. As a Creator, you can
transform your relationships with yourself and others into
actions.
In this book Tomi guides you through the stages of
emotional maturity as a framework for transforming your
hatred into loving intention and service to the world. While
it would be helpful to read Tomi’s previous book (she has
several), The Tomi Llama Purpose Guide: Emotional Maturity as a Pathway to Your Divine Purpose, to understand
her emotional maturity model, it is not necessary.
Hating Myself Every Step Of The Way is a book
that I will cherish and revisit, especially when that inner-critic, the Persecutor of the Inner DDT, raises its ugly
head. Instead, thanks to Tomi Llama, I can acknowledge it,
thank it for the purpose it used to serve in my life, and turn
my spirit and focus to the Creator essence that is my—and
your—true self.
David Emerald, Author
The Power of TED* (*The Empowerment Dynamic)
3 Vital Questions: Transforming Workplace Drama
Hating Myself Every Step of The Way
3
Preface: Thoughts on This Part
of the Journey
Despite making an agreement with the universe that I
would not write another book, here I am engaged with another. As someone with a law degree, I should’ve known
not to enter into such a contract. As the universe has done
throughout most of my adult life, it just laughed when I said
I was done doing something while patiently waiting me out.
Others knew, too—close friends along the journey.
When I told my friend Jim Anderson I wasn’t going to write
another book he gleefully replied, “Have fun not writing
that fourth book. Or is it part two of the third book of your
trilogy? We’ll see!” Thus, the best thing I can say at this
point is welcome to part two of the third book of the trilogy
known secretly as Tomi’s personal journey to wholeness.
ing. I honestly have no idea. Sometimes I’m so sure,
other times the opposite. And so I grasp the power
of standing in the middle of my own life, allowing the
universe to guide me. No proclamations necessary,
beyond “Show me the path and I promise to follow.”
When I shared with my family that I’d begun writing
a new book and the working title was Hating Myself Every
Step Of The Way, the eye-rolls and groans were quick and
unanimous. My husband Jim asked “Are you sure you want
to write about that?” Before I could answer, my younger
son Warren said to Jim, “Good luck with that conversation.”
Warren was not so subtly telling me he didn’t
want to hear about self-hatred. I trust that after reading this book you will see, as I do, that there is a tre-
4
Preface: Thoughts on This Part of the Journey
mendous healing power in hatred and its constant
companion anger. And that is why I am writing about it.
Since I mentioned my family, I want to take this
moment and thank each of them for loving me through
the hatred and the anger and everything else. You make
me laugh, cry, and love with renewed energy each day.
Some of the amazing people who carried this
Andrew Cheek, Billy Ingram, Shep Bryan and Beaumonde,
David Emerald Womeldorff, Dan Holden, Dan Morman,
Jim Anderson, and Shannon Schultz. Thank you for
shining your light in my direction.
As you read this book, know that I am sharing my
interpretation of the world with you. My interpretation may
not work for you and that works for me. I don’t want you
to think like me. The idea is that my interpretation of the
Tomi
Hating Myself Every Step of The Way
5
Introduction:
A Flawed View of Ourselves
I asked my dear friend Dan Holden, author of Lost Between Lives – Finding Your Light When the World Goes
Dark and co-founder of ESPÍRITU – The Horse & Human
Partnership, to write an endorsement for the back of this
book. Instead, he gave me the perfect introduction to it.
The title of this book is both amusing and
provocative at the same time. The author’s premise is that
many of us are raised in what we perceive, as children, to
be an absence of love. Sometimes this absence is subtle,
caregivers who are relentlessly busy elsewhere and seldom turn to look at, see, and embrace us. Other times, the
absence is violent and traumatic, immediately freezing us
and our emotions in ways that remain stuck. Experiences
of this core absence of love leave us convinced there is
side. The resulting fear and hatred are then turned in on
ourselves or spewed outward in acts of violence.
Regardless of the form this takes, the underlyselves that colors everything we do, every relationship
we are in, and the work we choose. The trapped energy
We may smile at the title of this book, as I did,
and think it absurd that we would move through life like
this. Achievements, promotions, wealth, and status aside,
many of us carry an invisible “less than” mindset with us
and do our best to avoid looking at it. Tomi Llama suggests
6
Introduction: A Flawed View of Ourselves
a radically different tactic — looking at it directly:
the void created by the absence of love with
must become for yourself what you didn’t get
of turning inward and giving yourself what you
didn’t get is the only way to resolve the trapped
Blocked energy can only be freed by looking at and
facing it directly. This act alone gets things moving.
Yet, if we already feel we are unworthy of love, this
movement can take real courage. This is where the
provocative element in Tomi’s title comes into play.
The absence of love, which we take to mean
something horrible about us, is more clearly seen as the
doorway into our awakening. It is the leading edge of our
body’s natural movement to wholeness and truth. Rather
than being something to be ashamed of or angry about, the
absence of love is a gift to be acknowledged and accepted
as an important aspect of who we are. It is not the only
aspect and it probably does not come wrapped in pretgift we can give ourselves and, later, to the world.
Some say that our greatest gifts and impact come
from our wounded places. I think Tomi Llama would agree.
The simple act of kindness to ourselves is the most potent
force in the world. When we turn towards love by
Hating Myself Every Step of The Way
7
giving ourselves and every living thing kindness, the
results are far reaching.
Events in our lives have no meaning other than
what we give them. If we can consider this is true, we
we face ourselves as we are and look directly at what
once scared us, there is nothing in the world that can
scare us as it once did. This prison door locks only from
the inside. We hold the key. This book by Tomi shows
us how to use this key and by using it, we become the
This book is a timely and powerful tool to guide us
into and through the deep and restorative waters of
self-love.
If you are ready to step into your role as a worldchanging love warrior, then turn the page. Your appointment
with self-love starts there.
8
Hating Myself Every Step of The Way
PART 1:
MY MOTHER’S STORY
9
10
Hating Myself Every Step of The Way
11
It’s Time to Stop Pretending
Most of us are self-loving creators pretending we aren’t.
Instead, most of us are pretending we are self-hating victims. It’s time to stop pretending. I say most of us because
there are some of you out there who know with absolute
certainty that you are a self-loving creator. I am not one of
those people, although I try every day to be. I continue to
work on accepting that all facets of me deserve my own selflove and that I am capable of creating whatever I desire.
In this book I share with you tips and tools that
can help you stop pretending. I gathered them from the
front row seat I had to my mother Janie White’s story of self-hatred and from my own attempts to discover self-love. These tips and tools have helped me stop
some of the pretending. I hope they do the same for you.
The gap between saying I am a self-loving creator
and actually meaning it is vast. The space in between
are just waiting for us to show up to acknowledge
and process these gone-but-not-forgotten moments.
These gone-but-not-forgotten moments can derail
our lives, creating resistance that keeps us stuck in
place despite our strongest desire to want something
different. My guess is that you called this book into
your life by your longing and desire to understand
why your life might not look like you want it to.
While these unprocessed experiences have hundreds, possibly even thousands, of different manifestations as limiting beliefs, repeating patterns, and self-sabo-
It’s Time to Stop Pretending
12
taging behaviors, I believe they have only two root causes:
•
•
Experiences that teach us we are not
loveable.
Experiences that teach us we are not
powerful.
These two root causes are the antithesis of the universal truths of I am love and I am a creator. The I am not
loveable story is the root cause of self-hatred and its
many derivative limiting beliefs, repeating patterns, and
self-sabotaging behaviors. To understand the breadth and
depth of self-love, upon arriving in physical form, many of
us are immediately immersed in its opposite: self-hatred.
The I am not powerful story is the root cause of
victimhood and its many derivative limiting beliefs, repeating patterns, and self-sabotaging behaviors. To understand the breadth and depth of our own power as a
creator, upon arriving in physical form, most of us are
immediately immersed in its opposite: powerlessness.
The stories of I am not loveable and I am not
powerful are controlling forces that set the boundaries for what you will allow in your life in the way of joy,
abundance, and good health. These boundaries create
a comfort zone for you that you may not even realize
exists because these two stories and their accompanying symptoms are masterful at hiding in plain sight.
The comfort zone is a space established by your
stories of not being loveable and not being powerful as
a place of safety for you. When you hit the edge of your
comfort zone or travel past it, the boundaries created by
Hating Myself Every Step of The Way
13
your version of the I am not loveable and I am not powerful stories typically engage, invoking limiting beliefs,
repeating patterns, or self-sabotaging behaviors that undermine your efforts and limit your personal growth. Gay
personal growth, relationships, and body intelligence, explains how these hidden, controlling forces can be invoked:
and then have a screaming argument with their
their dreams and then get sick; they win the lotcess trips their Upper Limit switch, and they plummet back to the familiar setting they’ve grown
2
For most of us, we are allowed to be only so powerful and
only so self-loving before our stories are activated and out
comes the parade of limiting beliefs, repeating patterns, or
self-sabotaging behaviors that keep us playing small in a
really big universe.
We can either stay in these places of opposites
or we can begin the journey home, to our most loveable
and powerful selves; where joy, abundance, and good health
are the staples of life. The purpose of this book is to share
with you a possible starting point on your journey to
discover the self-loving creator within.
My mother’s life story was the instrument that
14
It’s Time to Stop Pretending
taught me about the depth and breadth of my own
self-hatred. Because of her, I am on a path of self-love
I could never have understood without her story of selfhatred. While I didn’t always like my role in my mother’s
story, I am grateful for her courage to play out her selfhatred and victimhood in front of me (even though she
didn’t know it) so I could learn from her how to engage in
self-love. I am honored and privileged to share her story
and its impact on me across the remaining pages of this
book.
Hating Myself Every Step of The Way
15
The Ending is Usually Some Sort of
Beginning
On August 27, 2019, my mother Janie White reached the
expiration date on the earthly suit she came in wearing all
those years ago. She was 80 years old. Living that long
is a pleasure denied to many. The end of her life is
where the journey of this book begins. Because aren’t
all endings usually some sort of beginning?
My oldest son Shep did not attend my mother’s
funeral. He lives in Austin, Texas. The funeral was in Richmond, Virginia, about a 24-hour drive for him. Shep’s busiin the middle of launching the initial phase and he needed it
to go well so the other project phases would be awarded to
earlier to say his farewells to my mother. I invited him not
to attend the funeral and let him make his own decision.
After the funeral, I called Shep to share the details
of my mother’s farewell party (my terminology for her
funeral). On that call, I promised to send him the remarks
I made. My mother was close with both of my sons and
it felt important to me for Shep to feel included in the
celebration of his grandmother’s life so he could have
closure, too. Approximately nine months after my mother
So much for quick closure.
I am a believer in there is a right moment to do
something and if I listen to my intuition, I will know when
that is. Apparently, this particular Saturday morning, nine
16
The Ending is Usually Some Sort of Beginning
those remarks. The morning shower that was next on my
list of to-dos needed to wait. Instead, I typed up my remarks:
Remarks - Janie Branch White Funeral
By Tomi Bryan
Welcome to this celebration of the life of Janie White.
If you are curious as to why I’m speaking… here’s
the story: I called my brother Jerry and asked him to
speak. Jerry said he wasn’t sure he could stand up that
long and that Mike should do it because he spent the most
time with Mom of late. I called my brother Mike. Mike said
no and that Janie should do it since she is the oldest girl.
I called my sister Janie. She hemmed and hawed and
said, “That is more of what you do so you should do it.”
Poopala rolls downhill and I’ve always been downhill from these three so I was forced to learn how to catch it
fast and early. So here I am giving the welcoming remarks.
I have a philosophical friend who says life is going to kick your arse and you’re going to like it. I have
been trying really hard the last four days to like it.
My mother may not have realized it but she lived
her life standing on three pillars. In remembrance of
and in celebration of her life, I’ll walk you through them.
The Dalai Lama says people have three needs: to be seen,
to be heard, and to be loved. My mom didn’t get those
needs met for much of her youth so she became a master
at giving those things to others as an adult.
Hating Myself Every Step of The Way
17
For instance: at a recent hospital stay, my mom’s
dear friend Mrs. Lindfors visited her and they shared with
me that in almost 50 years of friendship, they had never
had a cross word with each other. I wish I could say that.
For instance: our family friend Amiel texted me that my
mother was a wonderful woman. One of his favorite
people ever. For instance: our family friend Charlie said
mom was a grand lady. She sure made an awkward Yankee feel like one of the family all those many years ago.
Another way she saw you, heard you, and loved
you was if you came to visit and you liked one of her desserts, she remembered it. For the rest of your life, when
you visited her, she’d make that dessert for you.
Her second pillar: Courage & Bravery
My mother didn’t back down from much. I don’t ever remember her saying, “I’m afraid.” When we were young,
if mom got that look in her eye, the four of us knew to
scatter ‘cause somebody was about to get it. Once it was
Mike’s basketball coach at the YMCA. Once it was Jerry’s middle school basketball coach. She never fussed
to be fussing. She did it because something was unfair.
were in a car accident. The story has gotten bigger over
the years but she did something like hit her head on the
windshield and my dad suggested he take her home. She
was adamant they go to the movie despite the accident.
Her third pillar: Fun
I joke that after everyone left a gathering that my mother
The Ending is Usually Some Sort of Beginning
18
good time was had by all.” Fun was spending time with
her family. Fun was playing cards… and winning. And
especially taking your money at cards. She would gladly
spot you 75 cents for the next scat game. Some of those
card games are the stuff legends are made of.
She laughed at her own jokes. Sometimes she
would get tickled before the joke and couldn’t tell you
the joke because she was laughing so hard. And then
there were the Janie-isms:
•
•
•
•
•
Shit and two is eight and farts are fractions.
Read ’em and weep.
He doesn’t know shit from shinola.
They go round and round like a button on an
outhouse door.
I wasn’t much of a mother but I was a helluva
father.
And then there were the words she messed up like cutty
noconut when she was trying to order nutty coconut
ice cream.
The four of us have stood solidly on these
three pillars to build remarkable lives of our own.
My dad said life would knock you down over and
over and you had to have a strong constitution in order
lives than a cat. Doctors would tell us she was very sick
and to have no expectations. She always found a way to
gather herself and go six more months. Over and over.
And that’s why I think my dad Tom admired
and loved Janie White so very much: she kept getting
Hating Myself Every Step of The Way
19
up. And not only did she rise up over and over, she had
a damn fun time while she did it.
Onward and upward, Mom. Onward and upward.
In closing, I thank the Reverend Paula Wells for
being the guide for my mother’s soul today and the last few
weeks.
I thank cousin Ron and his wife Suzan for followpants and veered left and right at an increasingly faster
pace. We will be meeting at their house for friendship,
food, and more stories of Janie after the graveside service.
My family thanks each of you for being here to
celebrate the life of Janie White with us.
Finally, to Pallbearers Jim, Warren, Ron, Bob, Chris,
and Bill. This is the last act of earthly love and service my
mother will receive from you. We thank you for saying yes.
to my siblings, my husband, and my children. I then jumped
up from my seat in the living room of my house and headed toward the bathroom to take that delayed shower. As I
walked down the hall to the bathroom, I kept turning over in
my head this idea of my mother standing on what she
didn’t get as a child and becoming that in the world as
a mature adult.
As I continued toward the bathroom, my pace
slowed. Finally, I came to a stop just before the bathroom
door. There, as I stared blankly at the bathroom door,
I said out loud to no one, “Huh.” Multiple things were
happening inside of me, underneath the surface of that
bland and nonchalant utterance.
20
The Ending is Usually Some Sort of Beginning
wasn’t just a pillar. It was the foundation the other two pillars stood upon. The unceremonious “Huh”
was this deep acknowledgement by me of the force
that a childhood wound can become in adulthood.
At the core, my mother’s not being loved as a
child compelled her to love and be kind in adulthood. She
wasn’t always like that. Her early attempts at freeing herself from the pain of growing up unloved resulted in her becoming the violence and meanness that she hated. In fact,
those experiences of not being loved in her youth haunted her across the arc of her life, from birth until death,
limiting her ability to fully blossom as a human being.
Sometime around 1945, Janie White was abandoned as a little girl on the courthouse steps in Richmond, Virginia. Her mother had recently passed away
from a stroke and her father was overwhelmed by attempting to care for seven children by himself. As a
truck driver, he wasn’t always home when the children needed him to be. I can’t imagine the pressure.
My mother was placed in and spent her formative
years growing up in a children’s home where love and kindness were hard to come by. My mother shared stories with
us of how the punishment the adults doled out in the children’s home was the same harsh punishment whether you
took an extra cookie at snack time or took $1.00 out of Mrs.
Adam’s purse (the lady in charge of the children’s home).
There were no lesser punishments for lesser
crimes. Just the same punishment for all crimes—beatings and all Saturday spent sitting in a chair facing
the wall with your nose in the corner.
Hating Myself Every Step of The Way
21
Another story my mother shared was about the
lunch she had to take to school every day: a peanut butter
biscuit. She said the other children at school relentlessly teased her about that peanut butter biscuit for lunch.
Rather than be humiliated about her food, many times she
room. She would rather be hungry than be humiliated.
She also said if it wasn’t for the oranges
and nuts that a local charity gave to the children at
the home at Christmas, there would be no Christmas
gifts. As an adult she was unable to walk past a Salvation
Army red kettle without tossing in money.
When one of my mother’s sisters was old enough,
she married. This sister was gracious enough to allow her
younger sisters, my mother included, to come live with
her. While there was excitement about not being in the
children’s home anymore, with this move into her older
sister’s home came a new level of terror for my mother.
This sister’s husband Bobby would get drunk
many nights and go looking for his younger sisters-in-law.
Throughout her life, my mother told us stories of hiding
from Bobby and of her hoping and praying he wouldn’t
sisters. I suspect Bobby did other things: unspeakable
horrors that my mother never gave voice to and took
to her grave.
Because her childhood was hallmarked with unkind and loveless acts, as an older adult she became
what she didn’t get: kindness and love. First, though,
she had to work out some of the hate and the anger
through different forms. Unfortunately, in young adulthood, her hate and anger expressed itself in the form
22
The Ending is Usually Some Sort of Beginning
of beating my two brothers Jerry and Mike. They could
take it, but it got scary at times and, in my humble opinion, there have been lifelong repercussions for the two of
them because of my mother’s loveless acts toward them.
My dad, Thomas K. White, was busy getting
an advanced education in the early days of his marriage to my mother. Despite having four children under the age of seven and no childcare, my mother ran
a small grocery store/gas station to put my dad through
school. She built playpens out of soda pop crates to
try to contain my siblings Jerry, Mike, and Janie. As the
youngest, I was usually in some makeshift child seat
was in the mid-1960s. I can’t imagine the responsibility.
On occasion my mother would repeat the story of
how a regular customer saved her from two men who came
to rob the store. She had to be brave and courageous.
True to what she learned as a child, regardless
of the mischief my two older brothers got into at the store,
her punishment for them was always the same: beating
them, like with a switch, until they bled. She was only
doing what she knew, however misguided or destructive.
By the time I was old enough to cause trouble
of my own (and let’s be clear here—I did cause trouble like quitting school in the second grade), my father
had graduated with a Ph.D. in Psychology. His constant
presence in our lives post-education changed my mother.
She went from giving what she hated to giving what
she didn’t get. The beatings my brothers got were not a
reality for me. My father wouldn’t allow it once he was
home more. That doesn’t mean I don’t have interference
from my own trapped energy, because I do.
Hating Myself Every Step of The Way
23
I was born with a rare medical condition that almost
took my life several times as an infant. My temperature
years of my life. When I ate certain foods or was exposed to
certain items, my temperature would rise dangerously high.
When a fever spiked, the solution proposed by my doctors
was to tell my parents to pack me in ice in the bathtub. There
was no medical treatment for bringing down my temperature quickly beyond ice baths. I spent a lot of time packed
in ice as an infant as my parents tried to coax my little body
to hold on long enough to hopefully outgrow the issue. Who
knew that in my adult years, ice baths would be in vogue?
I misinterpreted my parents angst and exasperation about my medical condition and the lack of a tried
and true treatment for restoring my good health. I
turned my interpretation of their emotions into a feeling
of I am not worth saving and that added another layer to my I’m not loveable story. They never said I was
unlovable or I wasn’t worthy. I drew that conclusion myself.
The high fevers from my illness left their mark on
me. I suffered subtle brain damage that resulted in
learning disabilities that piled onto my existing story of I am
not loveable and made me feel “less than” across the
of my I am not loveable story limited my ability to fully
blossom as a human being.
The learning disabilities resulting from the brain
damage are the reason I quit school in the second grade.
I knew I wasn’t like the other children in my class and I
didn’t know why. Thus, I simply refused to go to school. My
mother would drop me off in front of school and instead of
going in, I ran right past it, headed for home. Often times, I
24
The Ending is Usually Some Sort of Beginning
would be back at home, hiding in my bedroom closet, before my mother even pulled into the driveway of our house.
I have vivid memories of her walking in the house
one morning, shouting, “Tomi, I know you are here. Where
are you?” I didn’t make a sound. I remember the terror
of listening to her open closet doors across the house,
I was so ashamed that I couldn’t understand how
to write like the other children (a limitation resulting from
the high fevers). I had no idea what to do about
it and no one seemed to know how to help me. I know my
constant running home and hiding frustrated my parents,
in particular my mother. They didn’t know what to do
to help. Since I wasn’t getting the help I needed, I staged
my own rebellion in response to my situation by quitting
school. That time in my life was just another layer being
added to my I am not loveable story.
As I stood there before the bathroom door, in reached for my mother and all that she had been through.
In that moment of deep compassion for my mother, I
tapped into the vastness of who I am. From the depth and
breadth of my interior, I heard these words, “I hate myself. Becoming what you didn’t get and giving that to the
world instead of to yourself is self-hatred, Tomi.” I gasped
at this epiphany; the moment didn’t end there, either.
Standing in the hallway, lost in this moment of deep
compassion for my mother and deep hatred for myself, I felt
and saw the following insight of Jungian Psychologist Dr.
James Hollis’ in a more profound way: neuroses and complexes are just energy that haven’t yet found their purpose.3
That made three epiphanies. In under 30 seconds.
Hating Myself Every Step of The Way
25
At least that is how long I think I stood in front of the
bathroom door. It might have been 30 minutes for all I
know. Time seemed to stop as the way I saw the world
restacked itself in my head and the way I felt about the
Let me repeat these hallway insights:
•
•
•
I came to understand at a deeper level the force
that a childhood wound can become in adulthood.
I came to feel how deeply I hated myself.
I came to see and feel in a new way that the
wounds of childhood create a profound and
compelling energy in us that drives self-hatred
Let’s begin examining these insights by starting
of the self-hatred:
Neurosis, plural neuroses, also called psychoneurosis or plural psychoneuroses, mental
disorder that causes a sense of distress and
Neuroses are characterized by anxiety, depression, or other feelings of unhappiness or
distress that are out of proportion to the circumperson’s functioning in virtually any area of his
life, relationships, or external affairs, but they
are not severe enough to incapacitate the
4
26
The Ending is Usually Some Sort of Beginning
My mother didn’t receive much kindness or love as a
child. Not having these emotional needs met in her
childhood created a void. That void caused her a sense
her grave. Not being loved as a child created a neurosis
that haunted her and limited her ability to blossom as a
human being across the arc of her life.
While the Dalai Lama observed that people need
to be seen, to be heard, and to be loved, it really is all
about love. If I see you, I am loving you. If I hear you,
I am loving you. Seeing you and hearing you are acts
of love. When you are not seen and not heard, you feel
unloved. That absence of love is the center of the childhood wound—the den in which self-hatred thrives. While
self-hatred can have many manifestations, they all have
the same root cause: the absence of love.
For me, the energy created out of this absence of
love that hasn’t yet found its purpose is
Trapped energy is the language used in the rest of this
book to refer to the compulsion, power, and force that rests
behind the hurt caused by the absence of love. In my world,
the outward effects of this trapped energy on your life are
a cumulative force I call interference. Interference encompasses the whole scope of hurts and harms that result from
the trauma and drama of our childhood and life as a whole.
Interference comes in many shapes and sizes:
traumas, the wounded child archetype, constructs, neuroses, complexes, stories, sacred vows and contracts,
past life agreements, family entanglements, hidden family loyalties, allegiances, karmic scrapheaps, a manufactured identity or a constructed identity, management sys-
Hating Myself Every Step of The Way
27
tems, programs, emotional imprints, cultural learnings,
and survival patterns. As you can see, I have been collecting the terminology for decades as I tried to decide
“what I had” and “how to get rid of it.” What I had was an
experience of the absence of love whose other face is
self-hatred. And there would be no getting rid of it.
Dr. David Hawkins, a recognized authority within
observed that:
We carry with us a huge reservoir of accumuThe accumulated pressure makes us miserable
and is the basis of many of our illnesses and
human life is spent trying to avoid and run
from the inner turmoil of fear and the
threat of misery…
We have become afraid of our inner feelings because they hold such a massive amount of negativity that we fear we
would be overwhelmed by it if we were
of these feelings because we have no
conscious mechanism by which to handle the
feelings if we let them come up within our5
In my experience, trapped energy is always creat-
28
The Ending is Usually Some Sort of Beginning
where positive feelings like happiness, joy, contentment,
pleasure, or other such positive emotions created trapped
energy. That doesn’t mean it can’t happen. It just means I
haven’t seen it. For this reason, this book focuses on
our negative experiences and how they can impact us if
they remain unprocessed.
An important point to make here, and one I will revisit later in this book, is that there is a brilliance to our
trapped energy. My mother shutting down her heart to
doned was her body’s defense mechanism—an attempt to preserve her sweet and innocent heart from a
pain that was too great to bear for a child of that tender
age. From that moment on, the world continued to pile
on top of that original trapped energy, helping her to
bury it underneath protective layer after protective layer.
I believe that in order to see the full blossoming
of our abilities as human beings, we are required to turn
inward to examine the trapped energy and to embrace
it. Janie White made a dent in the journey because she
moved from being what she hated to giving what she
didn’t get as she chose to be kind and loving toward
and loving to herself and that, my friend, is the continuation of the dysfunction that is the source of self-hatred.
I had never thought to classify continuing to deny
myself what I didn’t get in childhood (and yet, freely giving
it away to others instead of offering it to myself) as self-hatred. I was perplexed. How could this be self-hatred? As
I do with most things I don’t understand, I did some re-
Hating Myself Every Step of The Way
29
The Merriam-Webster Dictionary has several enhostility and aversion usually deriving from fear, anger, or
sense of injury.”6
through me. Hatred can arise from an intense aversion
deriving from a sense of injury. Because my mother was
deeply traumatized by the lack of kindness and love in
her formative years, she had no idea how to extend those
things to herself. She had an aversion to loving herself
because of a sense of injury at not being loved in childhood. Her conclusion from that experience was that others are worthy of kindness and love but she was not.
My mother spent the second half of her life freely
giving away what she so desperately desired for herself in
an undeniable, intense response to the injury of not being
loved. I had no idea that was self-hatred until that particular moment in the hallway of my house. At the age of
56. In the unlikeliest of places for an epiphany: in front
of the bathroom door. And even the dictionary knew it!
Author and journalist Arthur Koestler said, “Nothing is more sad than the death of an illusion.”7 No kidding. The heartbreak I experienced in that hallway when
I realized I really didn’t love myself was profound, deep,
and scary. I didn’t love myself and I had no idea how
to love myself. But on that day in May, 2020, standing
There is a beautiful intelligence in the way our human systems work to keep us safe. They help us create
a manufactured identity that hides the original wound and
protects the true self from the pain. I have discovered it
is best not to judge, belittle, minimize, or shame—ourselves or others—over that interference, its manufac-
30
The Ending is Usually Some Sort of Beginning
tured identity, and resulting self-hatred. Rather, recognize that the interference we developed in response to
standing in the absence of love (regardless of causes)
is to be lovingly and warmly embraced as we work our
way to its center. It has served an important purpose in
our lives and it is to be blessed for its service. It’s not
about getting rid of it in any way, shape, or form. It’s about
freeing it to its rightful place in the system of our lives.
If I accomplish one of my objectives in writing
this book, then upon completion of reading it and using
the tools described herein, you will see, feel, and
know that I don’t sit in judgment of your interference
or mine and its companion hatred. I respect and honor
how each of us safely made it to adulthood.
Another objective of this book is to offer ways for you
to engage your self-hatred with love, honor, and respect so
that it can be embraced and welcomed. So it can show you
can process and free the trapped energy. While the word
self-hatred may not resonate with you, one of its many
qualities and nuances might: anger, jealousy, contempt,
bitterness, dissatisfaction, or impatience to name a few.
When you can come to love your personal story
of how the absence of love created the self-hatred and
shaped you into the amazing human you are today, you
release the trapped energy so it can propel you into