Self-Love For Beginners
Antoinette, do you love yourself? my coach asked a couple of years ago.
I squinted, caught off guard by the question and immediately uncomfortable. I shifted in my seat, letting words flit around to fill the space as I tried to come up with the right answer. I mean…I’m not…you know…like…I’m sorry, why are you asking this? She explained that I should love myself fully and confidently – that it wouldn’t be strange to answer with a resounding yes. To me, it felt like a strange proclamation to make but even more, there was some internal grappling deep in my gut – a resounding uncertainty. So, I made a few jokes and we moved on.
Antoinette, do you think you’re a good person?
I’m 19, sitting on a couch in a big shot psychiatrist’s Boston office, thanks to my doctor’s friend of a friend. He has bushy, unkempt eyebrows and wears brown pants that are too short when he crosses his legs. The previous questions had been easy yeses and no’s. I proudly tick down the list, pleased to be proving there is no obvious reason I should be here. But this question – it felt misplaced in the list of do you take any medications and have your ever had thoughts of suicide? What was a good person? How do I answer this correctly? Again, always versus the correctness then my reality. Ummmm….I think….um…I like to help people. I’m a good friend….I try to be?” That was the best response I could give that would be the truth. Did people really declare they were good people in here? I squirmed – it seemed bold and…righteous? Then he asked, do you like yourself? Two taps of his pen on the clipboard. Time’s up. Two beats to give the right answer. I think I’m.. alright? I offer with an uneasy smile. He raises an eyebrow. I was not alright.
Antoinette, but why do you think you’re not a good person?
I’m 35 and deep in the grips of PPD and PPA after my third baby. My therapist, Kim – a wispy woman with cropped hair and rounded glasses – looks at me, allowing an ocean of silence to fill the room. This woman is a master of uncomfortable silences, and I was someone who spent my life trying to fill them. I just sometimes…I don’t know…I’m just not always so sure. I wanted to get back to the real problems, like not sleeping or eating normally or the fact that I believed it likely I had an incurable disease, an obsession that trailed behind my every move for weeks. But here we were, poking around how I felt about myself. It was even worse than those deep breaths with birthday candle exhales.
***
I’m a protector of many people. This I know. I will lose my sleep, sense of self and sanity to protect someone I love. It’s easy for me to love, really. I often find myself smiling big when I’m alone thinking of a loved one or a moment in our relationship and feel a surge of gratitude that this person exists. And that I get to exist in life with them. But for the person I am with the absolute most, who knows me best and with who I have entered and will leave the world with? For her? That love has always been, at best, questionable. And I know I am not alone. Through my work exclusively with women over this last decade, I know many, if not most women would have struggled with my coach’s question: do you love yourself? A yes wouldn’t come immediately or without pause for many. There would be a lot of squirming and get out of here with all that but said way more politely. Many of us are taught how to love and pour our affections and admiration into others. To be responsible for our relationships and nurture them, to accept they may consume us. We’re even told by society how to prioritize our love. Does anyone recall the wrath writer Ayelette Waldman faced when she admitted she loved her husband more than her kids? The only thing that would’ve raised more eyebrows and criticism would have been if she said she loved herself the most of all. Imagine.
My coach asked me the question at an interesting time. I was about to turn 40 and was starting to experience some space from my children after many years of being home with them, working with them, co-sleeping with them – being completely consumed by them. Lots of love, little space. I was struggling with making a career change and being honest with myself about what I wanted. At the time, I was so in the weeds of day-to-day life, finances and navigating change that I truly didn’t think self-love was an issue or had a place at the table. After all, I shared and screamed (okay, texted and posted) the battle cry of modern women around the world, Who has time for (Insert all the things but especially: Self-love! Self-care! Self-compassion!). Now, however, I’d warn myself and martyrdom: you aren’t doing yourself any favors.
You can’t outrun your relationship with yourself. I’ve learned that consequences come with a lack of self-love. While trying to figure out the “more important” things in life, like a career, money, how to love your family best, your relationships, your mental health – a lack of self-love will hold you back in each and every one of those areas and more. It will color your choices and priorities. It will limit you and your love for others. It will make you jealous instead of envious – a subtle but important difference. When I think back to that spot in my life – probably the biggest crossroads since becoming a mother—I was so stuck and tortured and confused because I was trying to fix all the things instead of the one thing. (Note: if a question makes you squirm, it’s a sign to figure out why.) For me, I didn’t love myself enough to believe I could have what I wanted or fully enjoy what I had (always looking over my shoulder for the inevitable crumble of all this goodness). Without this understanding, I floundered and lost years, looking for things outside of myself to give me what I needed. It was like one of those movies when the main character is dating a bunch of losers and can’t understand why she can’t find happiness. Meanwhile, “Mr. or Mrs. Right” has been in her life the whole time, completely overlooked and underestimated.
***
It wasn’t that I didn’t think self-love was important. I had created a whole exercise/journaling class series focused on improving our self-talk and showing ourselves compassion. The most popular class of that entire series was always the “self-doubt and self-sabotage” theme in which at the end, women would write a letter to themselves from the version of themselves who believed in them. It was a practice I had done in the past to have a reminder from a more confident and optimistic self for those darker days that came in bouts of depression and anxiety or even just life. Dear Antoinette, I am your inner fan and I believe in you. Frankly, you have proven yourself over the years, always getting done what you set out to do, even when faced with self-doubt, fear and anxiety, the letter began. Let me tell you when moms finished writing these letters, many would weep. There were many tears and messages – it hit a nerve. I think the exercise revealed a few things – how women don’t give themselves enough credit and love – but also how much they viscerally needed this internal validation and gentleness towards themselves. It was important it came from them to them. We were all so far gone on the other side of the spectrum – feeling like failures as mothers, partners, or in our careers, all on self-blame auto-pilot, saying truly terrible things to ourselves, rather than to the rigged system that sets us up to fail, over and over. That small moment of writing a note to yourself from that inner fan buried way underneath the inner critic and choosing to pour some love directly to yourself – well, it felt wild, innovative almost. I often thought moms would perhaps balk at the exercise (and perhaps some did) but I mostly saw furious scribbling and tears.
My own note wasn’t a full-on YES I LOVE MYSELF! note, but it was something. I was learning to be my own hype women – putting to paper a lot of the internal coaching that began to take place in my head as I got further along into my business. It was a necessary first step. I did it. But I didn’t truly believe it.
It may have started during the pandemic when my love for myself began to blossom into more than a kind note to myself I desperately wanted to believe. I’ve dealt with anxiety most of my life, complete with a sense of dread that wakes me many mornings. In pandemic life, this became the norm for so many. Everyone was now uncomfortable with the unknown. It leveled the playing field, so to speak. I don’t want to say I thrive in crisis, but I don’t freak out. That’s the beauty of feeling like crisis is lurking around every corner – it will never fully surprise you. Can’t sneak up on me, Mofo. I joked to my husband (or maybe it wasn’t a joke): I’ve been preparing for this for my whole life. During quarantine and those subsequent months, I felt focused and effective on what I needed to achieve: keep everyone healthy, keep my kids from being scared, keep business running and keep the moms in my community connected. I was consistent and reliable in these things. Stress and anxiety would often interject but I never relented, and I appreciated how I was showing up. This path continued as my family moved during the pandemic – and I had to support my kids in an intense way while juggling my own emotions, changes in my business and the madness that was the world at that time. But through it all, I was pretty steady and proud. It was almost like the early stages of a relationship when someone shows you that they walk the walk, they’re in it for the right reasons, they’re dependable. During this time, I often would think to myself something that I never would’ve told myself during the early years of motherhood: you’re doing alright. You’re doing a good job. Some feelings were brewing.
***
The other factor that has made the difference (and probably does in many relationships) is time. Good relationships have history. We trust and love those who stick around and show us their love versus just tell us. I think that’s a blessing older age has given me – the history and trust is there. I’ve witnessed myself succeed, be a good person and make mistakes that left me altered but not destroyed. When I was 19, what solid evidence did I have? I barely knew this chick. That ambitious yet lost girl bopping around Lansdowne St looking to be loved but careful to never admit that, probably did need a serious dose of self-love. But how can you love someone you don’t even know? I don’t believe self-love to be instinctual. I think I hoped for the best and wished her well – but love? We weren’t there yet. But now, time has given me the ability to witness my own goodness through the kids I’m raising, the longevity of certain friendships, the loyalty and bond of a 17-year marriage and the respect garnered from putting genuine heart into your work.
Loving myself doesn’t mean there’s no shitty self-talk, frustration or that I don’t run out of patience. No relationship is perfect, including the one with our selves. Even with my spouse, kids and beloved friends – there are arguments, things said and days it’s difficult to just co-exist. But the love exists through it all. Loving myself is not some bubble-bath version of self-care. Quite the opposite: For me, it’s often challenging and about making hard choices. Of saying no because my levels of anxiety and discomfort matter. My happiness matters. One significant thing I’ve noticed in my self-love shift is having higher standards in my relationships, particularly friendships. In an unattainable quest to be loved by everyone (likely from my dismal self-love), I often accepted behavior that was unacceptable. I mistook manipulation for concern. I took responsibility for people who were not my responsibility. I loved and protected and received nothing in return. I wrote off being taken advantage of and spun it into being a good friend. I would bend and twist and accommodate. A shape shifter, I’d be whoever someone wanted or needed me to be. This was a better alternative than being disliked or losing someone from my life. Although perhaps trite, when you possess self-love and value what you offer in relationships – there’s no longer a place for the insincere and toxic ones.
Not everyone deserves and gets access to your energy, said coach also told me at a point. This hits a lot differently when you love yourself and value that energy. I now protect it. In a season of self-love, I’m unafraid and unapologetic to cut ties with anyone who doesn’t deserve my energy or costs me my peace. A shape shifter, no more – it just wasn’t possible without self-love.
On a less heavy level, self-love has meant simply not forcing myself to do what I don’t want to do for the sake of others. I enjoy my own company and sometimes want to go weeks without being social, so I allow myself this. When a sleeping arrangement in my house was endlessly impacting my sleep and not allowing for a window of alone time at the end of the day, I deemed this basic need not being met as unacceptable and demanded to my family that it changed. Martyr, be gone. Even small things at work, like billing for the extra hour of my time or less apologizing and exclamation points in emails.
I can’t lie. If this coach asked me the same question today, now three years later, I may roll my eyes and tease that this is lame and unnecessary. But I do love myself. And I understand out of all my relationships, this one is the most important. If you want to gag when you hear this or things like be nicer to yourself or learn how to be your own best friend – I get it. But understand that we’ve been conditioned to believe that self-love is “a bit much,” and self-loathing is normal. If you’re not ready to take the big leap or go public with your relationship with self status – it doesn’t have to be an all or nothing approach. The courtship can continue. Hell, even start where my 19-year-old self landed, “I’m alright?” Question mark and all. In fact, exclamation points might never be for me. But in between that question mark and explanation point comes the sturdy, steady punctuation of a period. I love myself.
Antoinette Hemphill is a writer, mom to three boys, founder of Mama Beasts and understands the initial ick of “do you love yourself?” but recommends considering it anyway.