Who Was I Before I Learned to Love Myself?

“Self-love was once a stranger I didn’t know how to trust.”

I used to think I had to be someone else to be lovable — until I remembered, I was always worthy, even in my unbecoming.

Hey Sunnies💛,

I know this post might feel a little familiar — it softly echoes one of my earlier blogs, “When the Mirror Finally Spoke Back: The Story Behind Self Care Diary.” If you haven’t read it yet, I’d love for you to check it out. The two posts are sisters in healing, hand in hand.

There was a time in my life when self-love felt like a language I couldn’t speak. I thought loving yourself meant having the right looks, the perfect life, the soft kind of pretty that the world applauds. But I didn’t have that. I didn’t grow up with money. I didn’t look the way society wanted me to. And because of that, I didn’t feel worthy of care — not from others, and definitely not from myself.

Back then, I believed that self-love was a reward you had to earn. But what if it’s actually the beginning?

🪞 Not Pretty, Not Popular, Not Enough...

“I thought I had to be beautiful to be worthy, but now I know—being real is enough.”

I wasn’t the girl with a crowd of friends. I wasn’t cool. I wasn’t the one boys wrote notes to or the one teachers adored. I didn’t have the trendy clothes or the soft voice or the spotlight. And because of that, I thought there must’ve been something deeply wrong with me.

I hated how I looked. I hated my life. I began to daydream — endlessly, obsessively — slipping into maladaptive daydreaming just to escape the ache of reality. (We’ll talk more about that soon, and if you’re curious, I already have a detailed podcast episode on it.)

My body also began to change — rapidly, unexpectedly. I gained weight. My features shifted. And in a world obsessed with perfection, I felt like I was constantly failing some invisible test. (There’s so much to say about this too — I’ll explore it more in another post, and yes, I’ve talked about it in detail on my podcast too.)

👥 I Was Living for Them, Not for Me...

“People-pleasing stole my voice until I whispered, ‘What about me?’

Somewhere along the way, I became an expert at shapeshifting. I wanted so badly to be liked — to be chosen — that I started living for everyone but myself. I said what they wanted to hear. I dressed how they wanted me to dress. I hid the loud, sensitive parts of myself just to feel safe.

And that’s when I lost me.

I kept people-pleasing until I realized it was bleeding me dry. (Don’t worry, we’ll dive into that one soon too — it deserves its own spotlight.) I realized that I was performing for people who didn’t even see me. And that kind of living? That’s not really living. That’s surviving.

💧 Where Healing Really Began...

“My first act of rebellion was moisturizing my face like I deserved softness.”

Healing didn’t show up loudly. It whispered. And it began with something as simple as skincare.

Yes, skincare. Moisturizing my face became my first act of defiance. Of softness. Of care. It wasn’t about beauty — it was about saying to myself: I deserve gentleness. And once I started… I couldn’t stop.

That’s why I’m so obsessed with it now. It’s more than products — it’s a promise I made to myself. A ritual that reminds me I’m worth the time. That I’m allowed to be soft, even if the world never made space for me to be.

🌱 Choosing Myself, Softly and Loudly...

“Even when I didn’t feel like it, I kept showing up for the girl in the mirror.”

At first, I didn’t believe the affirmations I whispered in the mirror. “You’re worthy.” “You’re doing your best.” “You are enough.” I said them anyway. And somewhere along the way, they started to stick.

I started to protect my peace. I walked away from people who made me feel small. I started building a world that fit me — not the other way around.

It wasn’t always easy, and it still isn’t. But I started showing up for the girl who once begged others to stay. And that changed everything.

🌼 It Was Never Meant to Be Easy...

“Healing isn’t always graceful—but it’s always worth it.”

Let’s not sugarcoat it. Healing is not a cute Pinterest board. It’s not always journaling by candlelight or buying flowers for yourself. Sometimes it’s crying in the shower. Sometimes it’s staring into space, wondering when the hard stuff will stop coming.

But even through all that, I kept choosing me.

And I still do. Because I’ve learned that even when healing feels uncomfortable, it’s the only thing that ever made me feel free.

💖 The Only Constant in My Story Is Me...

“Everyone else can leave, but I will always be the home I return to.”

Here’s the truth I kept running from for so long: people leave. Sometimes slowly, sometimes all at once. Friends grow distant. Lovers fall short. Even the strongest connections can fade like breath on a mirror. And when you're someone who’s always longed for love — real, deep, unconditional love — every goodbye can feel like a personal failure.

But through it all, there’s always been one person who stayed. Even when I didn’t want to. Even when I wished I could disappear. Even when I said the harshest things to myself, I was still there. In every quiet breakdown. In every deep sigh. In every attempt to start over.

And that changed something in me. It made me realize that maybe I was the love I was always looking for. Maybe I was the safe space I’d been craving all along. The one who knows the full story — the messy middle, the chaos, the healing — and still chooses to stay.

Now, I don’t chase love like it’s a prize I have to earn. I don’t beg for scraps of attention or mold myself to be more palatable. I don’t shrink to be digestible. I choose me — not out of ego, but out of grace.

Choosing myself looks like protecting my peace, saying no without guilt, rewarding myself for just surviving the hard days, and refusing to apologize for my sensitivity. It means being my own soft place to land, my own hype woman, my own gentle reminder that I am always, always enough.

And Sunny, maybe that’s what self-love truly is. Not loud or perfect or glamorous. But consistent. Soft. Like a whisper that says: I’m here. I’ve got you. I always will.

☀️ To the Sunny Reading This...

“You are not too much. You are everything in full bloom.”

To the one holding this story like it’s part of their own — I see you. Maybe your journey doesn’t look exactly like mine, but if you’ve ever felt like you had to change yourself to be loved, if you’ve ever stared into a mirror and wished to disappear, if you’ve ever felt like too much or not enough — then, my love, this letter is for you.

You are not broken. You were never too sensitive. You were never asking for too much. You just needed someone to understand you — and maybe that someone is you.

I hope this post reminds you that you’re not alone in the messy middle. That even when life feels like chaos, there’s still comfort to be found in your own arms. Healing isn’t linear. Some days you’ll bloom, some days you’ll wilt, and some days you’ll just be — and all of that is okay.

I’m so proud of you for being here. For showing up. For reading this. For breathing through another day. Keep choosing you — again and again and again — because you are the only home you’ll never lose.

You’re not too much, Sunny. You’re a whole sunrise in bloom. 🌷

🌸 Let’s Stay Soft, Together...

If this post whispered to your heart, come say hi! You can follow me on Instagram at @_.selfcare_diary for more soft rambles, cozy visuals, and tender moments from my life.

And if you ever want to hear me go a little deeper, you can always listen to me on my audio diary — my podcast: Navigating Life Diaries, available on all platforms.

Let’s keep healing, growing, and loving ourselves — one soft step at a time. 💕