02/01/2026
Once we start loving ourselves, the fog lifts.
For years, many of us wander through relationships - romantic, friendly, even professional, wearing lenses smeared with self-doubt. We accept crumbs because we believe that’s all we deserve. A half-hearted text feels like affection. A sharp word feels like passion. Someone’s mere presence feels like validation. We confuse attention with care, intensity with depth, and tolerance with love.
Then something shifts. Slowly, sometimes painfully, we begin to treat ourselves with the gentleness we’ve always extended to others. We set boundaries. We notice our own worth. We stop apologising for taking up space.
It’s not that we become judgmental or cold. We simply stop romanticising red flags. The charm that once blinded us now sits alongside the behavior that follows it. The witty banter no longer excuses the disrespect. The grand gestures no longer erase the consistent neglect.
Self-love recalibrates our standards, not out of arrogance, but clarity. We stop auditioning for people who wouldn’t cast us in their lives with enthusiasm. We stop watering dead plants hoping they’ll bloom.
This shift can feel lonely at first. Some relationships fade when they’re no longer fed by our willingness to shrink. But what emerges in their place is space - space for connections that nourish rather than drain, that lift rather than diminish.
When we love ourselves, we don’t demand perfection from others. We simply refuse to settle for less than reciprocity, respect, and kindness. And in doing so, we finally allow people to show us who they really are and decide, with clear eyes, whether they belong in the life we’re building.
