TABLE OF CONTENTS
My Path to Learning What “Love Thy Self” Means with Anna Maria Manalo
As a 1st generation Filipino-American pianist, composer, and violinist now in mid-life, my path to learning to love and accept myself has been an adventure. To get past the imposter syndrome and perfectionism, a series of life challenges and onwards to getting my creative work- out I’ve had to learn three main life lessons.
Learning Acceptance: My Musical Youth
It was unforgettable. I was a 6th-grader at my very first rehearsal, sitting among the 2nd violins of the Wisconsin Youth Symphony Orchestra, and playing the opening of Brahms’ “Variations on a Theme by Haydn.” Hearing the brass and winds together with the strings and my simple counter-harmony, my ears opened up to my emotions and the impact gave me goosebumps—I was hooked on music.
In that rehearsal, I felt a unity with my fellow music-makers. We were creating something extraordinary together, even though we came from varied backgrounds. In that rehearsal, the trauma I was going through as a kid who didn’t look like everybody else was put on the backburner.
At school, I hid behind good grades and designer clothes (many were hand-me-downs) in order to gain acceptance by my classmates. Still, I felt “othered” and shunned. I was never asked to any school social events and I learned what depression was at a young age.
Music was a haven for me and I excelled, winning concerto competitions in both piano and violin, winning various awards and a scholarship to the University of Wisconsin. I made my family and the small Fil-Am community in Madison proud.
My life in music began because I learned I could be accepted in the process of creating something beautiful to serve a larger mission.
The only problem was I believed that achievements would get me what I wanted. And I somehow believed that love meant that I could demand whatever I wanted in a relationship. Ouch, there was more trouble ahead.
Learning to Receive Love: My ‘Un-Divorce’
After a series of failed romances, I became a cynic when it came to relationships, and I scoffed at the idea of love-at-first-sight.
But then I met the man I married. At the time, Stefan and I were both in other relationships, his more serious than mine, which was tricky to navigate, but we sorted it out.
Soon we were living together in NYC at the Columbia campus in Washington Heights, where Stefan was completing his PhD. in Molecular Biology.
Living with a scientist, it turned out, was like living with another musician—they’re always either working or thinking about their work. This intimidated me and brought out my worst insecurities. I was worried about his interactions with female scientists, especially if they didn’t look like me.
It was even worse when I first visited his hometown, Bremen, Germany, where (in the 90’s) absolutely nobody there looked like me. My unresolved ghosts fears about not being accepted were back haunting me.
We managed through this and at our wedding our families all met for the first time, even though there wasn’t a shared language among the relatives.
Being ignorant newlyweds, we didn’t realize how much the models of our parents’ marriages informed our expectations. I’d go through the motions of what I thought it meant to be a wife and this pushed Stefan away into his work. I felt ignored and he retreated further. Couples therapy didn’t help.
My depression returned with a vengeance and it got bad enough that we decided to have a “marriage sabbatical,” a trial separation. I moved in with my parents in Madison, while Stefan finished his Post-Doc. I taught and saved, planning to find my own apartment, and filed for divorce.
Stefan made the trip for the court appearance. The mood of the clerks, and the atmosphere of the modern new courthouse was thick with resignation—unusual for the typically cheerful Wisconsin demeanor.
As the Judge recited the legalese to begin the process of divorce, I looked over at Stefan and it hit me like a peak musical moment—I saw tenderness and love in his eyes. I flashed back recalling my moods, my accusations, my hurtful words, and all the reacting instead of responding.
Stefan must have heard my thoughts because we simultaneously blurted out:
“We can’t do this.”
“Are you sure?” asked the startled Judge.
“I don’t want this,” I said.
“I never did,” said Stefan.
“You’ve made this the happiest day in my job,” said the Judge, smiling.
At that moment, I finally got it, that love is NOT about taking and it’s not about keeping score. In a flash, I felt grateful for Stefan and our journey. I felt MARRIED.
Another hard lesson won, but I had one more to learn.
Being Your Own Best Friend: What my Students Have Taught Me About Self-Love
This was, in a way, the simplest lesson, but it took me the longest.
About my work, I love what I do in music: playing when I can, sometimes composing, and always, always teaching. It took me over 30 years to find my teaching “groove,” to find how much I love helping students unlock their creativity. And to find fascination in the process, learning how much teaching, playing, and composing all inform and benefit each other.
But while my students have gone on to live out successful life stories, I continued the “no-pain no-gain unhealthy approach to my own music studies. Lots of negative self-talk and feeling less-than.
Unlike my previous love-thyself lessons, there was no sudden epiphany here, just a long-awaited realization, one that over time I finally learned to embrace . . .
That I can’t encourage and help my students if I don’t do this for myself.
I realized I needed to treat myself with the same compassion I do my students if I want to honestly make a contribution to the world.
With my teaching I get to model how we can help ourselves, and with a huge dose of humor, I’ve learned how much I can enjoy my own company.
Learning how to be my own best friend has made all the difference in my day to day experience. I can’t recall when I was last depressed.
Learning acceptance, learning how to receive love, and learning how to be your own best friend—these are lessons I wish for you, too.
We are all students of love. – AMM
