The Order of Love

I understood this quote intellectually long before I felt it in my bones. Of course self-love comes first — it made perfect sense. But actually doing it? That was something else entirely.

Because here's what I didn't want to admit: I didn't love myself first because I was terrified of what I'd discover if I turned my attention inward. As long as I stayed focused on someone else's problems, I didn't have to face my own pain, my own emptiness, my own profound belief that I was fundamentally unlovable. Self-abandonment wasn't just a bad habit - it was protection.

I came to realize that I had to love myself before I could love others. But what does that actually mean when you don't know who you are? When your entire identity has been built around being needed? Slowly I began to understand: loving myself wasn't about becoming self-centered. It was about becoming honest. About admitting I had needs instead of pretending I didn't. About recognizing my well-being mattered instead of treating myself as an afterthought.

This shift didn't happen overnight. But each time I chose my meeting over someone else's crisis, each time I said "I'm not available" without guilt, I was practicing a new kind of love - one that included me. And something unexpected happened: my love for others became more genuine, less resentful, truly free.

When I'm tempted to abandon myself for someone else, I can pause and ask: What would love look like if I mattered too?