Writer Anonymous

Should you have journeyed through this contemplative discourse, you may deem it either the meanderings of a self-aware woman or perhaps, in a less forgiving light, the ramblings of a narcissist. I leave that judgment to your discernment. As the morning alarms usher in a new day and the lights softly dim at night, a resonant refrain reverberates through the tapestry of my existence: I love myself.

In this odyssey of self-reflection, I unravel the intricacies of embracing self-love, disentangling threads woven over two decades. Childhood echoes of “I love you,” inspired by a whimsical purple dinosaur, resurface, underscoring a journey that required time to break free from the habitual neglect of the most important recipient—my own reflection. Transforming this oversight into a cherished ritual became a gradual, transformative process.

The zeitgeist currently places self-love under a spotlight, often reducing it to superficial indulgences like shopping sprees and spa treatments. However, my understanding transcends these superficial acts; it involves wholeheartedly accepting and appreciating oneself. Delving into deeper emotions, I confronted the painful question of why self-love eluded me initially—a challenging inquiry akin to ripping off a band-aid for expedited healing.

Social media often shoulders the blame for fostering comparison, yet my proclivity for such comparisons predates its existence. Rooted in childhood comments about skin tone, these comparisons persisted into adulthood, encompassing careers, academia, and societal milestones. It took time to respect my unique journey and validate my aspirations, even when they diverged from societal expectations.

Establishing boundaries emerged as a pivotal aspect of my self-love expedition. Unlearning the ingrained habit of excessive accommodation, particularly as a South Asian woman, proved challenging. The pursuit of being perceived as “too nice” exacted a toll, tying my worth to a string of compliments. Saying no, declining invitations, and terminating toxic relationships became indispensable steps towards reclaiming my intrinsic value. With this acknowledgment, I extend a sincere apology for any inadvertent boundary transgressions, working earnestly to rectify those missteps.

Forgiving oneself is a cornerstone in the edifice of self-love. The demons of regret, persistent and haunting, prompted reflections on career choices, interpersonal relationships, and spoken words. While the sting remains, especially when others bring it up, I’ve learned to accept that past decisions were shaped by the knowledge I possessed at the time. I’ve moved past the “could-haves” and “should-haves,” recognizing them as reflections of my past self. Armed with the same power, I endeavor to make wiser choices in the present.

Positive self-talk emerged as a transformative practice. Rejecting hurtful labels and embracing my own timeline, I reframed the narrative. Dismissing societal expectations, I bloomed on my terms. Amidst the challenges hurled my way, adopting a kind and understanding dialogue with myself became an indispensable practice.

Committing to self-love routines transcends mere spa treatments; it embodies a profound self-respect. It’s not about lavish shopping sprees but discovering practices that authentically bring joy. From the morning alarms signaling a new day to the serene dimming of lights at night, the constant in my life is the unwavering love I hold for myself.

Celebrating personal victories became a crucial facet of my self-love journey. Just as one would applaud a friend’s success, I’ve learned to extend that applause to myself. Even during periods of scarce friendships, I metaphorically embraced myself, acknowledging the hurdles overcome. In becoming my own savior, I uncovered a sense of empowerment.

So, as the morning alarms herald a new day and the lights softly dim at night, a resonant refrain echoes through the tapestry of my existence: I love myself.