Last year, I went through a breakup that left me feeling completely vulnerable in ways I didn’t expect. When I was in the relationship, I was so wrapped up in this other person’s world that I barely thought about myself. The question “Who am I?” didn’t even exist in my mind. I thought I was independent and confident, but looking back, I realized I had been leaning on someone else so much that I hadn’t really spent time figuring out who I was on my own.
At the time, I had just started a new job and was still trying to figure out my coworkers. I mostly listened, jumped in when asked, and tried not to stick out. One morning, I woke up feeling kind of lost. Most of my friends were older, already graduated, moving back home, or busy with jobs and applications. I kept texting my friends, hoping someone could hang out, but no one could. I had to spend the day alone and I had no idea what to do with myself. I didn’t go for a walk, didn’t cook, didn’t read, didn’t watch a movie. I just lied there, thinking about all the things I could do, but nothing sounded fun or right.
When I got to work that night, my coworkers were already deep in a conversation about their summer plans. They talked about solo trips, concerts, dates, and adventures they had been looking forward to for months. Listening to them made me feel like I had been hit by a bus. It wasn’t jealousy but more like a mirror. I realized I didn’t even know what I liked, what I wanted, or who I was outside of other people. Questions I had been avoiding came rushing in all at once. Do I even have hobbies? Am I passionate about anything? Do I actually enjoy the things I say I do, or am I just pretending to seem interesting? Would I be able to go on a solo trip? Am I boring? What do I want from my career? I had no answers, and it felt like I had been slapped in the face listening to my coworkers speak so confidently about themselves, their interests, and their plans.
For a long time, I thought self love would just happen. I waited for that one morning when I would wake up and suddenly feel confident, happy, and secure. Maybe time would fix it. Maybe I would just grow out of it. And yes, over time, things got better. I wasn’t crying all the time anymore. I laughed more. But there were still moments, small moments, where I would spiral into self doubt, questioning everything about myself. I kept thinking that one day I would finally feel different about myself, without ever really changing how I treated myself.
Then one night a few months later, something shifted. That day, I had actually spent time doing things I enjoyed like paddle boarding with a friend, grabbing lunch, wandering around just talking and laughing. It was one of the first days in a long time where I felt present instead of distracted by my own thoughts.
On the lake, one of my oldest friends laughed while telling a story and then casually said she hated her laugh. That moment was so insignificant for her but everything for me. Because at that moment, I thought she was perfect. How could she not see it? Even the things she thought were flaws didn’t change how I felt about her, how much I liked being around her, or how much I admired her. And that’s when it hit me. I offer so much grace to the people I love. I don’t require them to be flawless to be worthy. So why was I holding myself to a standard I would never hold anyone else to?
I realized then that imperfections didn’t make anyone, my friend or me, less worthy of care, attention, or love. The way I saw her in that moment is the way self love actually works. It is not about obsessing over every flaw until you convince yourself to like it. It is about accepting that flaws exist and choosing to stay anyway.
That night, I finally understood something about self love. I had thought it meant loving every single part of yourself, every flaw, every insecurity, every thought that made you uncomfortable. But self love isn’t about loving everything. It’s about knowing yourself. It’s about sitting with every part of you, the parts you’re proud of and the parts you hate, and saying, This is me. Just like I show up for my friends, support them through good times and bad, I realized I could do the same for myself.
Self love doesn’t mean you never feel shame or insecurity. It doesn’t mean you always wake up confident or happy. Self love is about being present with yourself, even when it’s messy, even when it’s uncomfortable. It’s about learning to sit with the confusion, the boredom, the self doubt, and still showing up for yourself.
Self love is learning to sit with yourself even on the days where you can’t love yourself.