A Ridiculous Story

Let me take you back to a version of myself I hardly recognize now. She made some questionable decisions. It’s funny how hindsight lets us see our past selves with enough clarity to make you shake your head and say, “Wth was I even thinking?”

Back then, I had this knack for existing in spaces that felt completely unwelcoming. There I was, bending myself in ways I thought would make others feel more accomplished, all while stifling my own growth. I wanted so badly to fit in or help someone else stand tall, yet the price I paid was my own happiness.

There were golden opportunities, ones that I'm certain could’ve changed my life if I had just allowed myself to receive them. But I didn’t. Maybe out of fear, maybe out of insecurity—or maybe because I hadn’t yet realized that I was worth the chase. I shied away from them, even though deep down, I could feel the tug. I let them slip by like sand through my fingers. Ridiculous, right?

What’s even more absurd is that I wasn’t lacking love—I loved myself, sure—but I was missing self-compassion, real self-love. That delicate and powerful recognition that my own joy, my own dreams, deserved to be honored, too.

That’s a tough one to admit, but I know I’m not alone. Its easy for our human selves to fall into these patterns, to settle for versions of ourselves that aren’t fully realized. To tell ourselves that playing small is okay when it’s really just the easier choice.

Today, I’ve tuned my mind to healthier frequencies, practicing habits that support growth, healing, and joy. I've learnt that rediscovering who we are and nurturing ourselves doesn’t have to be complicated. It’s about making a series of simple choices to rekindle that love affair we’ve so often craved. And believe me, that’s not ridiculous at all.

Each journey is different, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: not trying to love ourselves, to honor ourselves fully—that’s the real absurdity.

So here’s to being a little ridiculous about self-love.