Why consistent self-love is hard

I was clearing out some old papers this morning when I stumbled across evidence of the eating disorder that ravaged my body and mind from my pre-teen years to my late-thirties.

I found multiple A4 sheets of meal plans and feelings check-ins dating back some 20 years, designed to raise my awareness of why I was binge eating or restricting and to help me to find balance and peace around food.

How far I have come since those days of stuffing my emotions with crisps, chocolate, muesli, yoghurt and anything else I could get my hands on.

How far I have come since those days of restrictive diets and punishing exercise regimes.

How far I have come since those days of hating my body and obsessing about how to lose weight.

I no longer binge eat, starve or compulsively exercise.

I no longer pinch my waist, prod my thighs or condemn the wobbly bits in my mind.

And yet …

How far I still have to go on my journey of self-love.

It’s the consistency that’s a challenge.

I can practise self-love for a while - set and hold healthy boundaries, take good care of my needs and wants and make steady progress towards my dreams.

But then I abandon myself and neglect my needs and wants, putting other people’s needs and preferences ahead of mine.

This is my codependency - an addiction to acting against my best interests.

More subtle now but still there, even after many years on this self-discovery journey and even though I am entirely aware that healing comes from finding the courage to act in my best interests and that this will often require uncomfortable, sometimes scary steps.

A compulsion to abandon myself.

An addiction to self-neglect.

Addiction is in my family line.

You could say I was born with the gene or I inherited the template.

Self-abandonment was role modelled to me, as was self-neglect.

No wonder, then, that I struggle to love myself consistently.

No wonder, then, that I can love myself for a while, take self-caring steps and then give up.

I also took on board the message as a kid that I wasn’t valued or loved, valuable or lovable, that I wasn’t worthy of good care or attention, that my needs didn’t matter, that I wasn’t important.

No surprise, then, that I battle to prioritise myself and my dreams or care for myself consistently.

These are hard habits to break.

Self-abandonment is in my make-up, as it was in my mum’s.

But I know for certain that I’m going to get better at self-love because look how far I’ve come already.

I was the woman who binged on food until her stomach ached and she cried out in pain.

I was the woman who drank alcohol until she blacked out and collapsed in her bathroom.

I was the woman who got into cars with strangers and slept with men she’d only just met.

I was the woman who got stuck in dysfunctional romantic relationships and stayed in them no matter how much they hurt.

These days, I do not binge eat, I do not binge drink, I don’t take unhealthy risks with my life and I am married to a lovely man.

How do I love myself more, then?

How do I love myself consistently and wholeheartedly?

Here are five ideas, off the top of my head:

• I consistently take uncomfortable or scary actions in my best interests. I write when I don’t want to write. I post this blog long before it’s perfect. I go out for a walk when I’d rather stay glued to my desk. I do 10 minutes of press-ups, sit-ups and squats. I use my voice even when I’m scared. I speak my truth and stand up for myself. I send the email, make the phone call, do the social media post, prepare for my client, write the poem, dust off the novel and endeavour not to procrastinate.

• I don’t do any of the above alone. I accept that I have a template of self-abandonment and that self-neglect is a hard pattern to break and I ask people for encouragement, support and accountability. I find some fellow humans to be on my side. I gather a team. I find my tribe.

• I find the courage to unearth, heal and process the wounds of my early life, both on my own, with the help of the power I call God and with the support of friends and professionals. I understand that I may touch deep pain, that this pain may feel almost intolerable but I go there anyway, because I know this is how I recover. I sob, I cry, I rail. I feel it all to heal it all, step by step.

• I give myself a break. I treat myself with the utmost compassion, as if I was a precious child in my loving care. I rest before I’m tired. I meditate, pray and trust instead of trying to control everything and being tightly attached to outcomes. I am a good parent to myself and I keep myself safe.

• I seek out moments of lightness and joy every day, even when everything feels heavy and dark. I remember to dance and sing and swim and walk, to hear the birds and touch the trees and be grateful that I’m moving, that I’m alive, that I have another day, another chance.

Now it’s your turn, dear Reader.

Do you find it hard to love yourself consistently?

How do you practise wholehearted self-love?

What works for you?

What would you like to commit to going forwards?

Please share in the comments or reply to this letter. It would be lovely to hear from you.

And may you feel an abundance of self-love this Valentine’s Day 💕

From midlife with love,

Katherine 🩷

If you’d like some self-love support around Valentine’s Day, please consider becoming a paid subscriber so that you can access my Fourteen Days of Love mini-course, a two-week journey that will help you grow in self-esteem, self-worth and self-compassion.

Alternatively, you can purchase Fourteen Days of Love for £28/US£38 here.

Paid subscribers will also receive free access to my next Zoom workshop, ‘How to Find a Healthy Relationship’ on Tuesday, Feb 24th, 1230 GMT/0730 EST. I’ll share further details about this in my next email.