This article is part of our “Cupid at Kenyon” series, in which our writers talk about Valentine’s Day.
I can vividly remember, from the ripe age of 8 and above, being force-fed the media’s ideals of love. Whether it be in the form of Twilight (#TeamJacob all the way) or Romeo and Juliet, the idea of romance was always lingering somewhere around me. So it didn’t really surprise anyone when I plastered posters of Zac Efron or Cody Linely on my wall, or that my sister’s wall was nearly covered in the Jonas Brothers. However, I don’t think it was until I was in high school that people really started to tell me what they thought romance was, or rather, they told me what I should believe romance is.
My mother always told me that romance came to you; you couldn’t seek it out or you would just disappoint yourself. My friends seemed to always think it had to do with how you looked or what you wore, and my parent’s friends always teased me—asking if I’d found that perfect man just yet. I guess I never really knew what attracted love, and that’s something I’m still trying to figure out. However, a new idea then surfaced, one riddled with phrases like “you can’t love someone else if you don’t first love yourself,” or “self-love comes first.” At first, the thoughts seemed rather normal, of course, you had to love yourself! How else would you ever be able to share a piece of yourself with another, if you don’t know that piece yourself?
However, with age came more consideration, and I’ve come to the realization that these phrases just aren’t quite right. As a girl who has always struggled with both body image and overall self-esteem, it was frightening to think that the only possible way I would ever be able to share myself with another would be if I accepted myself first. This idea is arbitrary, as I’ve come to realize that self-love is not only a process but a non-time-sensitive topic. I don’t believe there’s truly a person out there that fully loves every aspect of themselves, or at least someone that doesn’t have one of those “I don’t want to look in the mirror” kind of days. Perhaps this thought process comes from growing up in a household where I saw my mother and sisters struggle with self-image as well, but the hindering idea that I wouldn’t find love without an appreciation for myself first never crossed my mind.
I suppose that’s why at 18, nearly 19, I am accustomed to my own ideals. The ideals that not only is self-love a process, but a thing that I will constantly be working on. And, to me it, seems that working towards that self-assurance and appreciation becomes easier with the aid of someone by my side, accepting me as I am in a way that shows me that I am worthy of loving myself after all. Because if they can love me, why is it that I wouldn’t be able to love myself? Having another person by your side who sees your flaws but chooses to accept them, in my eyes, is a way of reassuring yourself that you are worthy of not only love from that person but from yourself as well.
Now of course, if that person—whether it be a significant other, crush, hook-up, etc.—chooses to point out or ridicule you, and is not aiding you in your self-discovery and rather hindering it…then kick them to the curb and continue on your own path, because you truly are fabulous with or without another individual by your side.