Loving Well Starts With You
Relationship concerns come up a lot in therapy. Big surprise, right? Admittedly, when I first started working with clients in a clinical capacity, I had a lot of insecurity about romantic relationships. Like most of us, mine have been far from perfect. Contrary to what some people have said (e.g. exes trying to make me feel bad about myself) perfection as a human in any capacity is not a requirement for being a competent therapist. Additionally, Carl Rogers would readily acknowledge that even the most self-actualized and experienced therapist can’t make meaning out of the myriad of another human’s experiences because that would be arrogant. I can’t tell anyone how to live their life. I can share some important observations though, and one of the most important ones that I’ve made is it’s impossible to be a good partner or find a true partner until you learn how to fully love yourself, and no, this isn’t a spin on the catty phrase, “How can you expect someone to like you if you don’t like yourself?” I hate that phrase with a passion and I think you’ll agree there’s a distinction between liking someone all the time and loving them. I love my mother and I’m close to her, but when we’ve been in close quarters for more than a few days at a time, we don’t necessarily like each other in all those moments, and that’s okay. (Love you, Mommy.) Love is a deeper connection. It’s acceptance.
This is the beginning of a list of what loving yourself might look like. If you have things to add, please post them in the comments.
Acceptance of where you are now and your capacity. Dr. David Viscott was fond of saying, “You can have anything you want, but you can’t have everything you want.” We can only do so much at any one time, and some choices preclude others. Unfortunately, people and society as a whole, don’t exhibit much compassion for the fact that each of us only has 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, and 365 days in one year to get things done. We also play multiple roles. I am a daughter, a mentor, a partner, a friend, a professional, a writer, a healer, a survivor, a dog mom, and a business owner. Even as I type this, I know I’m leaving some roles out (like homeowner, neighbor, citizen, etc.) You get the picture though: I have to be a lot of different things to a lot of different people, and I can’t be fully engaged in all of those roles at once. Sometimes, like this year, I’ve had to relegate being a writer to a tiny space in my life because my business and clients have been in greater need of my time and attention. That’s okay though because I value growing as a therapist and a business owner. I want to do those things. I intentionally choose to engage in that work, and it’s satisfying to see myself develop more in those areas and engage more in that professional community. However, I have had to learn more about protecting my time and emotional energy so that I can keep fully showing up for my clients as well as the other people in my life who need my attention. (I lump my dog into “people” because he is a fur person.) Essentially, I set a boundary on what I expect of myself. Maybe I won’t finish a manuscript this year, but I can accept that because I am helping a lot of people navigate through an unprecedented crisis.
Compassion for yourself, especially on your bad days. I’ve said and done things I’ve regretted. Sometimes, the regret doesn’t even take long to sink in. Sometimes I do the same regrettable things repeatedly whether it’s getting impatient with someone at the grocery store who is taking forever in the meat aisle or getting snarky with someone on Facebook. While doing those things isn’t part of my life goals, I am human like the rest of us and I make mistakes. As many a yogi reminds us during restorative practice: we all live in grace. Everyone is entitled to their opinion about what you say and do, but they don’t get to decide whether or not you’re a “shit human.” Making mistakes makes you a human human. If you can forgive yourself, you won’t tolerate anyone else who insists guilt-tripping you forever for your trespasses.
Taking care of your mind, body, and finances. Think about Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs. We need to have our basic biological needs met and our safety needs met before we can engage in healthy relationships. If you find that by being with someone your health, money, or safety are consistently compromised, that’s a sign that person either isn’t a good fit for you or doesn’t have your best interests in mind. If you view your safety, comfort, and health as rights, you will be less likely to accept anything less from someone who tries to partner up with you.
