AN EXCERPT FROM MY UPCOMING BOOK:
“Boys Will Come And Boys Will Go”
What is self-love?
For the longest time, I thought I knew. I thought it was something you did—a checklist of activities meant to make you feel better, even if just for a moment. I thought self-love was treating myself to an overpriced latte, taking long showers with lavender-scented body wash, putting on a face mask, or re-watching my favorite comfort shows until I could temporarily forget whatever was making me feel empty.
But self-love isn’t a spa day. It isn’t an aesthetic. It isn’t just lighting a candle, putting on a cozy sweater, and pretending you don’t feel like you’re unraveling inside.
Real self-love—the kind that changes you—is much harder. It’s painful. It’s a process that forces you to sit in the discomfort of your own thoughts and face the parts of yourself you’ve been running from. It’s looking at your own reflection—not just in the mirror, but in your choices, your habits, the way you let people treat you—and asking, Do I really love myself? Or do I just say I do?
For a long time, I lied to myself.
I thought I loved myself because I had confidence. I could make people laugh, I could post pictures where I looked happy, and I could give my friends the best advice about valuing themselves while secretly ignoring all of it when it came to my own life. I thought loving myself meant knowing I was pretty, smart, funny. But love—real love—isn’t just knowing your worth. It’s acting like it. And I wasn’t.
Because if I had truly loved myself back then, I never would have tolerated what I did.
I wouldn’t have stayed in relationships that made me question my sanity. I wouldn’t have begged to be chosen by people who didn’t see my value. I wouldn’t have let someone else’s moods dictate my own, or silenced myself just to keep the peace, or given my love to people who only wanted me in pieces.
I used to think self-love was about making myself more lovable—being easy to be around, being agreeable, being the type of girl who didn’t cause “problems.” But I’ve learned that self-love is the opposite of that. It’s not about making yourself smaller to fit into someone else’s world. It’s about realizing that you deserve to take up space.
It’s standing up for yourself, even when your voice shakes. It’s saying no without guilt. It’s leaving places, people, and situations that don’t feel safe, even when you have no idea what comes next.
It’s knowing the difference between compromise and self-betrayal.
It’s understanding that loneliness is better than toxic love, and that being alone is not the same as being abandoned.
It’s looking at the girl in the mirror and choosing her—even when no one else does.
It’s learning to comfort yourself, to hold yourself through heartbreak, to remind yourself that your pain is real but so is your ability to heal.
It’s realizing that you do not have to beg for love. Not from a partner, not from a friend, and especially not from yourself.
And that? That is a lesson I had to learn the hard way.
justjocelynthings 
Leave a comment