Article
Content warning: contains reference to death.
In popular culture, there is a lot of emphasis on finding love and “the one”—and we’re made to feel lesser, or not enough if we don’t have that. As someone that has given so much of my love away to people who don’t deserve it, I can’t help but think there needs to be a change.
And for me, that change was one of the most important people in my life dying on Valentine’s Day. My pop. Paul Simmons.
It was cancer that took him, like many others.
But experiencing that devastating loss taught me a lot. It showed me that there are a lot of things society tells us is important—but in the end, is it really?
We get conditioned to believe romantic love is the be all and end all.
But . . . could you imagine if we were instead conditioned to give that love to ourselves?
I’ve always found the concept of self-love to be really challenging. Because for most of my life, I didn’t love myself. In fact, I hated myself. But that hatred was something I carried largely because of other people. I just didn’t realise it.
As an undiagnosed autistic person, I experienced a lot of hate—from people at school, and others in my world. I felt alien. Like I didn’t belong.
Like I couldn’t belong. I was undoubtedly the black sheep—and I also experienced complex mental health challenges, thanks to bipolar, anxiety and trauma.
I didn’t realise how loud the voices of other people were in my head. It just became normal to me. I’m not enough, not good enough, too much, everyone would be better off if I didn’t exist. And for a long time, that hatred was the soundtrack I lived my life to. Heck, I felt guilty for existing. Which makes me feel so sad now to look back on.
It wasn’t until decades later and lots and lots of therapy that I realised . . . those words weren’t mine. I realised how negative my self-talk had become. I realised how little I thought of myself, how much I let other people cross my boundaries. And I decided I didn’t want that anymore.
Of course, realising and actioning are two very different things. And loving yourself . . . well, I think that’s sadly one of the hardest things to do. Especially in this world.
But loving yourself can be revolutionary
It can be healing. Eye-opening. And . . . devastating. Particularly to realise how long I carried the stories of other people about myself.
In my head, I was this utterly awful person, with no redemption available. But I didn’t deserve that hatred. Taking an unbiased look at myself made me realise . . . I wasn’t horrible. I was actually a very kind, very caring, very loving person—someone who always tries to do their best and make a difference. I genuinely thought people’s default reaction to me were hatred. But being around different people was super helpful too—because they didn’t see any of that. They just . . . liked me. Which was such a radical concept when I was young. I mean, if I’m honest, it’s still a challenge now.
Decades later, I’m 30. I’m an accomplished writer and disability advocate. I have people who like my work and like me, just for being me, which utterly blows my mind. And it shows just how distorted my thinking was when I was younger.
So, how did I give that love to myself?
Well, it wasn’t easy. In fact, I think loving yourself is probably one of the hardest things to do. It started with recognising how negative I was to myself, in my words and my thoughts. It was challenging those negative thoughts, and actively replacing them with nicer ones. Instead of “I’m worthless”, I’d think “I am doing my best and I’m doing a good job”.
And I’d actually take the time to celebrate good things I did—and the good parts of my character.
It’s always an uphill battle. When I think I’ve got this self-love thing nailed, I fall into another pit of despair. And I have to pull myself out again. Assuring myself I don’t deserve these dark parts of my mind and experience.
I think, unfortunately, that is something a lot of us can relate to.
I wish we taught self-love like we are taught other things. It can be so powerful. And even though I don’t think there will come a day when I don’t struggle, I’m doing better than I was.
And when things are hard, I double down more on loving myself. On taking care of my needs. On setting boundaries. On challenging the negative narratives, and swapping them with stories of strength and courage. I listen to podcasts with positive self-talk. I listen to affirmations, and repeat them, trying to truly feel them. And I try to remember: I am not what I have taken on from other people.
For many people, romance is an important part of life.
And I’m not trying to poop on your parade if you have found romantic love! I love love. I just think we need to be pickier about who we give it to—and that it’s most important that we firstly give it to ourselves.