For the longest time, I found myself chasing the elusive idea of self-love.
Online, I’d scroll through images of "IT girls" at 7 a.m., fresh from pilates, dressed in Lululemon, with perfectly manicured nails and a Stanley cup filled with (maybe) kale juice.
It all seemed so aspirational—or so I thought. I fell for it, believing this was what self-love looked like.
So, I tried it all (minus the kale juice in a Stanley). But something felt off. It was like wearing shoes a size too small that looked good but didn’t fit me.
This led me to dig deeper, spiralling into a black hole of endless searching for the so-called destination of self-love. I began to wonder: Is self-love really that hard to attain? Every time I thought I was close, the goalposts seemed to shift.
I believed I’d love myself once I saved $3,000, but as soon as I did, I raised the bar.
I thought losing weight would be the magic answer. Yet, even after shedding 13 kilos, I still didn’t like how my arms looked.
I thought losing weight would be the magic answer. Yet, even after shedding 13 kilos, I still didn’t like how my arms looked.
I thought mastering makeup would do the trick. Instead, I ended up frustrated by uneven double eyelids that refused to cooperate with eyeliner, and eyebrows that wouldn’t shape perfectly no matter how many tutorials I followed.
For years, if I had to rate my self-love on a scale of 1 to 10, I’d never go above a 4. Like so many of us, I fell into the trap of thinking perfection was the answer. If I could just hit a 10, maybe I’d finally be enough. But that pursuit? It’s exhausting. And where’s the final destination anyway? I felt like I needed a GPS to find it.
It made me question everything:
How far do we have to go to reach that perfect 10?
Is a 7 or 8 good enough?
Would a narcissist actually rate themselves a 10? And if they did, do they genuinely love themselves inside and out?
If someone rates themselves a 0-2, does it mean they’re struggling with depression?
But most importantly: Who’s even measuring?
We toss around the term "self-love" like it’s the propaganda of the century, but the world around us doesn’t exactly model unconditional love.
Parents glow with pride when you follow the path they’ve envisioned for you.
Bosses praise you when you meet or exceed their expectations.
And in relationships, love often seems tied to grand gestures—flowers, fancy dinners, and held doors.
It’s no wonder we struggle to love ourselves. We’re taught to see love as conditional—something earned, not something inherently deserved. This applies to how we treat ourselves and others. Come to think of it, that’s not love. That’s judgment. That’s manipulation. It’s an expression of fear, lack, and victimhood.
So, where did I finally find my answer? In a spiritual podcast. (Yes, cliché, but hear me out.) It said:
Self-love isn’t about what you do on the outside. It’s an internal feeling you cultivate by accepting yourself exactly as you are right now. It is not as some ideal version of yourself you imagine reaching someday, as if it were a destination.
This epiphany made me question how I love others, too:
Do I love them as they are, flaws and all? Or do I use "love" as a way to control, trying to shape them into something that makes me feel secure?
That realization hit me like a ton of bricks. I had been putting off self-love for some imaginary future version of myself. But that "someday" never comes. It’s just a mirage. The longer you wait, the more it robs you of truly living and deeply loving. No wonder it always felt like I was chasing my own tail. I thought I was moving forward, but I was just going in circles, stuck in the same spot.
It’s a hard truth to face, but it comes down to this: we can’t give to others what we don’t first give to ourselves. And we’ll never truly find love if we rely on external validation, whether from things, events, circumstances, or people.
Here’s the truth I’ve come to embrace: we’re all doing the best we can with what we have. And that is enough reason to love yourself.
Self-love isn’t a destination; it’s a process. Every step you take, every effort you make, is proof that you’re growing—and that deserves love, too.
For the first time in my life, as 2024 begins, I can honestly say: I’m happy with who I am. But I’m also excited to see how much better I can be moving forward.
And that? To me, it’s self-love ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
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