Self Love, Actually

In my corner of the world, late January and the first half of February are chock full of merchants cramming as many conversation hearts 💜, stuffies 🧸, and punny valentine’s cards 💝 into our view as possible with hopes that they’ll find a home in our shopping carts. It’s the consumer month o’ love drizzled in pinks and reds and as many chocolates in heart-shaped boxes as you can stomach. Traditions include advertisements targeting romantic relationships, people panicking to get a date for valentine’s day, and (maybe) kids passing out valentines at school (this one seems to be in the process of biting the dust in some locations). 

We have so many traditions around this one specific date of February 14, but I always wonder why we put so much stock in just one day to show others we love them. One day out of 365? But also, why so much emphasis on only loving others? Where is the holiday where we focus on loving ourselves? 

I will unabashedly say I love myself. Now. But it definitely hasn’t always been this way. In fact, I would say if we were to look back through my years, the higher number of the ratio leans towards the not loving of myself. I have had many years of depression and super low lows, and so many days when I revolted myself, and I know many of you have been in these spaces (hugs to every one of you 🤗).

But I recall this profound moment I had years ago sitting in my car way too late at night with a friend of mine. I was heavy into feeling the not love for myself, and he pulled the rearview mirror down and demanded that I look. At myself. IN THE EYES. And he didn’t stop there. He told me to tell myself that I was beautiful and that I love me. 

Have you ever tried this? It’s hard as fuck if you don’t feel love for yourself. I couldn’t do it at first. I couldn’t even make my lips move to form the words. And then I stumbled and my voice got trapped in my throat by some unseeable force. But I kept trying in that moment (he was making a good argument for it and had a large amount of patience), and eventually I did it. Meekly. 

It was a start, right? And it changed something in my body. I felt grateful and supported. I felt like I could bear myself. I felt loved. By me. And that made me sit a little taller. It allowed me to take up a little more space in my car seat. To find ease in some areas of my body that had been in advanced fight mode for far too long. That moment of experience helped change my course. It was powerful because self love is powerful.

Self love is foundational to all we do and bring to our relationships. There are numerous trite phrases about this for a reason. If we can’t love ourselves, can we really love others and let others love us? We can’t see all of another human being if we can’t see ourselves. We can’t love another in all that they are if we can’t love ourselves in all that we are. And we can’t fully accept love from others if we can’t accept love from ourselves. It’s not a one way street.

It’s super simple when I write it like that, but loving yourself is hard AF, and I don’t think that it’s something we do wholly all the time. Nor do we have to set that expectation for ourselves. Loving yourself is a practice. Like so many things, we have to show up for it and try at it and fail at it and celebrate the tiniest of successes along the way. Some days are easier. Some days it’s all we can do to not loathe ourselves into oblivion. And some days it all comes together. Even if just for an hour.

So what IS self love actually? Is it acts of self care? Is it hugs and notes and chocolates? What does it look like? Good question (I say to myself). And here is the shortfall of language. Can we describe what loving someone actually IS? We can usually describe actions and feelings, but to describe an abstract idea that’s highly subjective? Cue the crickets. 🦗

We better sit down and breathe. 

It looks different to everyone, right? But we can share commonalities between our experiences. We say we love our children, our partners, and our families (if we have any of those), but we all act differently to express that love. We have different love languages, and these can even vary based on mood and seasonal cycle. But it’s the expression and experience that lets us know we have the love (go with me here). For me, when I boil down how I know something is love, it’s when I know I would experience heartache in its absence. Feeling the (potential) negative space is indicative of a positive presence.

Exhale. 

Let’s let that sink in. 

When the thought of something’s absence creates heartache (negative space), that’s a sign of love (positive presence). 

Slow breath in and out.

And notice I didn’t say it creates panic or fear or pain. Not that those aren’t also sometimes present, but it creates a specific feeling of void – of something missing – that I’m focusing on. For some of us, this manifests physically in our heart space; for others, maybe it’s just a general feeling of empty. But most of us know what this feels like. Life as a human teaches us this in spades. 

Can we use this knowledge and turn it inward in our own direction? 

If we are absent from ourselves, would we feel that kind of ache? 

Do we already feel that ache and not even realize it?

Do you feel heartache when you think about not showing up authentically for yourself? 

Slow breath in and out.

Whatever your answers are, that’s good. Know those answers. And if they aren’t what you want, what can you practice to grow and foster your own self love? 

One thing we can do is use this as an opportunity to lean into shadow work and ask ourselves some tough questions (tough self love, if you will 😉). What are we basing our self love on at any given moment? 

How we think others feel about us? 

How productive we’ve been? 

How much money we have? 

How clean of a house we keep? 

How sweet our IG photos look? 

Are these the same reasons we love others? Fuck no. We might like these things, but I think we all know they’re not love material. None of these things last. None of them encapsulate what makes us beautiful in our hearts and souls.

So what makes you beautiful in your heart and soul? Can we love our humanity? Our imperfections? Can we love that we keep trying? That we have the audacity to show up? To speak up? To be in the practice? Can we love ourselves fully – in all the moments of comfort and ugly and majestic and irrational? Can we love ourselves in the ways we love others? 

Because we are just as deserving and worthy. And it’s even more important that we invest our energy into loving ourselves. Without it, everything else dims - the world is more muted in color, happy events are just okay, and we can’t fully experience joy. Loving yourself is liberating, and it’s a freedom that we can’t afford to not have. 

So this February, I encourage you to direct that love inward. Show up. Practice. Use your actions to communicate with yourself, just as you would for others. Here are some things I personally practice to help get you inspired:

📝 Write yourself punny notes.

😍 Look in your eyes in the mirror and tell yourself you love you (yes, I kept this practice).

🫱 Put your hands somewhere on your body that feels nourishing.

🤗 Hug yourself.

✅ Do the hard thing you’ve been putting off.

🍌 Feed yourself the nutritious food.

💧 Hydrate.

🧘‍♀️ Stretch.

💤 Sleep.

🫁 Breathe slowly.

📔 Journal one thing a day you love about yourself.

🤣 Laugh. From your beautiful belly.

😆 Let your face crinkle with joy.

🐾 Massage your feet.

🎶 Play your favorite song and sing along.

🕺 Dance in the kitchen because it feels good in your body.

⏳🫶Give yourself grace.

Notice how closely these resemble quality self care? That’s not a coincidence 😉. 

I invite you to join me to take this month of love by storm in the direction of SELF LOVE. Shout it from the rooftops. Share with your friends. Let me know how you’re practicing self love. Comment, reply, or message me to share. I can’t wait to hear from your beautiful heart 💟

 #selfloveforall ✨