Learning to Love Me: The Journey That Was Always Mine
Act One: The Great Disappearing Act
Let's flashback to a younger me—a certified people-pleaser with a specialty in self-doubt. I spent an embarrassing number of years pretending to be someone I wasn’t. I was the romantic equivalent of a chameleon at a disco ball: constantly morphing to fit what I thought someone else might find attractive. Love sushi? I’d act like I could name every fish in the sea. Obsess over vinyl records? Suddenly, I was quoting obscure music history lore (thanks, Wikipedia). If they liked it, I liked it.
But here’s the unsexy truth they don’t tell you: When you’re too busy shape-shifting for someone else’s approval, your own reflection starts to look like one of Picasso’s abstract paintings—fascinating, maybe, but totally unrecognizable.
Spoiler alert: There’s only so long you can contort yourself to fit someone else’s narrative before the seams start to rip. And rip they did after one particularly catastrophic breakup. (Think screaming fight in IKEA—and yes, in front of the Swedish meatball station. A low point for us both.) The heartbreak wasn’t just over the relationship; it came from realizing I genuinely didn’t know who I was outside of it.
Something had to change—and by "something," I mean me.
Step One: The Solo Quest (Because You Are the Main Character)
Loving yourself is a bit like building Ikea furniture: there’s no shortcut, the instructions aren’t always clear, and halfway through, you might throw a tiny Allen wrench across the room in frustration. My first attempt at self-love honestly felt like a full-blown identity crisis.
To make space for the real me, I had to Marie Kondo my life. There were habits, labels, and outdated beliefs I’d held onto that no longer sparked joy. For starters:
- Stop apologizing for existing. Ever catch yourself saying, "Sorry, can I just...?" in conversations? Yeah, me too. Turns out, you don’t need a permission slip to take up space in your own life.
- Break friendships based on obligation. Let me tell you, clinging to people who make you feel small is the emotional equivalent of wearing shoes two sizes too tight. Painful.
- Relearn hobbies for myself, not for clout. Did I really enjoy hot yoga that much, or was I just trying to post enlightened Instagrams in my sweaty Lululemon? (Spoiler: Not worth it.)
Letting go of other people’s expectations made room for self-discovery. Slowly, I started to notice what made ME tick—like indulging my love of old Navajo folktales (shoutout to my grandma), or traveling alone to places I often dreamed about but never voiced.
Step Two: Your Inner Critic is Not Invited
Here’s the deal with loving yourself: You’ve got to mute the snarky, self-sabotaging inner critic. Mine? Picture the Regina George of insecurities, complete with patronizing remarks like: “You thought bangs would fix your entire personality? Really?”
For a long time, I let that voice run the show. It doubted every move I made, every outfit I wore, and every flirtatious glance I dared to return. But here’s some groundbreaking wisdom I’ve picked up: You’d never let a trashy internet troll live in your house rent-free, so why would you let your own inner troll trash-talk you all day?
Start calling that inner critic out. Literally. I named mine Sheila—because what’s more satisfying than saying, “Not today, Sheila,” when self-doubt creeps in?
Affirmations helped, too—though I’ll admit I used to roll my eyes at the idea. But turns out, training yourself to swap “I’m not enough” with things like “I am worthy of love (even in sweatpants)” isn’t as awkward as it sounds. It’s just like a gym workout for your soul: uncomfortable at first, but the results? Fire.
Step Three: Date Yourself—Yes, I’m Serious
Ever gotten to the cash register at Target with a cart full of candles, face masks, and some wildly unnecessary throw pillows? Congratulations, you’re already halfway to the self-love swagger I’m talking about.
Dating myself started small:
- Buying myself flowers—not to impress anyone, but because I deserved something that wasn’t already wilting in the grocery store discount section.
- Treating myself to solo meals—not the sad “drive-thru fries in the car” kind, but the “sit down at a restaurant and order the good dessert” kind.
- Writing myself love letters. (Corny? Sure. Effective? Absolutely.) Pro tip: On rough days, pulling out your own words of encouragement is chef’s kiss levels of satisfying.
Self-dates didn’t just remake my internal world—they rebuilt my external one, too. I stopped chasing relationships where I had to shrink myself into someone else’s ideal and set boundaries like an MVP. You know what they say: the only way to truly know your worth is to act like someone who actually... values it.
Step Four: Turn Your Flaws into Plot Twists
Plot twist: I did not magically turn into a fully actualized love-your-flaws queen overnight. If I’m being real, I still wrestle with my face breaking out at the worst times (hello, stress pimples on date nights) or the emotional scars of feeling a little too much or not enough, depending on the room I walk into.
But somewhere along this journey, I learned something simple yet life-changing: Flaws aren’t roadblocks—they’re plot twists in the epic story of you. I stopped chasing Instagram quality perfection. Perfection is boring—it’s the personality quirks that make us unforgettable.
So I leaned into my weirdness. My geeky obsessions with books, heritage stories, and even my awkward laugh. (It’s like I’m fully snorting to say, "Hey, you’re in my inner circle now.") And guess what? The more I owned my flaws, the less they felt like flaws.
Curtain Call: The Love That Radiates
There’s this thing I’ve heard people say: “No one will love you until you love yourself.” I call bull. I’ve loved deeply even when the chasm of self-doubt within me felt scarier than the Upside Down in Stranger Things. But I will say this: Loving yourself unlocks a kind of power no external validation can match.
What I’ve learned is this: You can be messy and still magnificent. You can be a work in progress and still a masterpiece in moments. And you, with all your bruised bits and dazzling edges, are already lovable as you are—no filter needed.
So here’s your pep talk: Stop waiting for someone else to make you feel whole or for some mythical future date when you’ll finally “have it all together.” You’re already a full person worthy of love, inside and out.
Loving yourself isn’t a destination; it’s a practice—done daily, imperfectly, and genuinely, like a dance where only you know the steps. But trust me on this: once you learn to move to your own rhythm, the beat only gets better.
