Loving yourself doesn’t mean you don’t
love others. It means you refuse to lose
yourself in the process of loving them.
That’s the difference between
codependency and true connection.
Self-love, in its healthiest form, is an act of
responsibility. It says: I know my limits. I
honor my needs. I trust my knowing.
And most importantly: I am enough.
This is what healthy selfishness looks like.
It’s not arrogance or coldness. It’s
rootedness. It’s an internal compass that
says: “I belong to me first.”
It’s waking up and asking, “What do I need
today?” before asking, “Who needs me
today?”
It’s not about ignoring others—it’s about
not abandoning yourself.
It’s about building a life where your well-
being isn’t optional.
Because when you prioritize your own
healing, everyone around you gets a fuller,
more authentic version of you.
Leaving wasn’t the end of my story—it was
the beginning of a new one. During the
months that followed, I met someone
unexpected. Twenty-five years my senior.
Twice divorced. Quiet, gentle, grounded. He
became a safe place for my heart to rest.
Not a solution. Not a savior. Just safe.
He reminded me what tenderness felt like.
What respect sounded like. What it meant
to feel seen and not just tolerated. And one
night, during a soft, honest moment, I asked
him if he’d ever marry again.
“No,” he said. “I could never say ‘I love you’
to anyone but my daughter.”
And I knew: I wouldn’t settle. I couldn’t.
That conversation didn’t hurt—it clarified. It
reminded me that love must be mutual. It
must be nourishing. I realized that settling
for companionship without depth would be
a betrayal of all the healing I had fought for.
And that became another anchor for me:
Don’t close your heart. Just be more
discerning with it.
Anchored in Love, Not Fear
SHE TALKS | 64