You Can Be Deeply Loved and Still Abandon Yourself

Why the most important relationship in your life is the one you have with yourself.

Right as we came out of the January madness trying to straighten our lives and overhaul all the behaviors that aren't serving us — we ran headfirst into the pink marketing explosion that is Valentine's Day.

I am so anti-Valentine's Day that I couldn't even manage to write this in February.

Now before you write me off as a dejected, miserable, uncoupled soul, let me state that I am writing this from a place of deep satisfaction within my multiple relationships.

So why would I hate a day dedicated to love if my life is overflowing with it? I am so glad you asked. Let me break it down: I cannot stand the commercialism, the forced grand gestures to compete for recognitions on social media, and the pressure to make something messy and complicated appear perfect and pretty.

Then there's not so subtle <limited> hierarchy:

At the top we have our coupled people, specifically long lasting committed monogamous relationships. These people are successful in love.

Coming in second (aka non-winners) are the single people, and they are suspicious. I mean seriously, why aren't they coupled with another person already?

Dead last are the individuals who aren't even looking for love. Maybe they are healing themselves, working through shit or maybe they just don't give a damn. That doesn't change the fact that to the mainstream world they are invisible.

I don’t hate Valentine's Day because I’m bitter.

I hate it because it narrows love into something limited, something external, something conforming, something performative.

---

When Love Turns Into an Audition

Here's the part that truly surprised me:

Self-abandonment doesn’t just happen in toxic relationships.

It can show up within healthy ones too.

I recently caught myself doing it...again.

Not in a dramatic way.

Not in a screaming, throwing-plates way.

In a quiet, sneaky way.

The kind that looks a lot like people-pleasing.

The kind that whispers:

Don’t mess this up.

Don’t rock the boat.

Make sure they still want you.

I started noticing this subtle pressure inside myself — the feeling that love needed to look a certain way.

That it needed to feel the way it did at the beginning.

That if the energy shifted even a little, I needed to fix something.

Perform better.

Be easier to love.

Be less complicated.

Because somewhere deep in my nervous system, an old script was still running:

If it stops looking like the fiery passion you experienced in the beginning,

you will lose it.

So without realizing it, I started conforming. Auditioning. Performing.

Not for a stranger. Not even for a bad partner. For someone who actually cares about me.

And that’s the mind-bending part.

You can be deeply loved

and still abandon yourself.

You can be chosen

and still feel like you have to earn it.

You can be in a healthy relationship

and still shrink.

And that’s when I realized something uncomfortable:

The most important relationship in my life had quietly slipped into second place.

The one with myself.

---

Me, Myself and I

You wake up with yourself.

The clothes you choose are for your body.

You sit through that dreadful meeting that could have been an email — with yourself.

Then come the mundane moments — grocery shopping, driving to work, meal planning, working out.

Still you.

The only person present for every single moment of your life.

Every decision.

Every compromise.

Every quiet moment where you override that little internal voice that says, “This doesn't feel right.”

Now here's the inconvenient truth most of us spend years avoiding:

No partner can give you the safety you refuse to give yourself.

No amount of reassurance from someone else can replace the moment you choose to trust your own instincts.

And no relationship — no matter how loving — can survive long-term if you abandon yourself to keep it.

Real love doesn't require you to disappear.

It requires you to show up fully intact.

Not smaller.

Not quieter.

Not more convenient.

Whole.

And that starts with the relationship you wake up inside every day.

The one with yourself.

If you don't trust your own intuition,

you will tolerate people overriding it.

If you speak harshly to yourself,

you will often accept harshness from others.

If you abandon your needs to keep peace,

your relationships will quietly expect that sacrifice.

If you ignore your own boundaries,

others will do the same.

People don’t just treat us how they want; they also treat us how we repeatedly show them we will accept.

And the way we decide what we will accept is shaped by our relationship with ourselves.

The relationship you have with yourself sets the ceiling for every other one. It determines what you tolerate, what you ask for, and what you believe you deserve.

You cannot build honest relationships while abandoning yourself inside them.

So if you leave yourself behind to keep the peace, your relationships will expect that version of you to stay.

---

Why Self-Abandonment Is So Easy

I’m Not Anti-Love. I’m Anti-Abandoning Myself.

I spent the majority of my life neglecting the relationship with myself. Coming back from that damage has taken a SHIT ton of work — and honestly, it’s probably work I’ll be doing for the rest of my life.

Here's what I have learned the hard way: You can be wildly loved by someone else and still abandon yourself daily.

Just let that sink in for a moment.

It doesn't even have to be dramatic.

Sometimes self-abandonment looks incredibly polite.

And here's the tricky part:

Most of the time, we don't do this because we're weak. We do it because we're afraid.

Afraid of losing the relationship.

Afraid of conflict.

Afraid that if we stop performing love the way we were taught, it will disappear.

So we audition.

We perform.

We adjust.

We shape ourselves into what we think love wants.

But self-loyalty asks a different question:

What if love doesn't need a performance?

What if it simply needs you to show up honestly?

---

Love Without the Audition

If after all that you are ready to fight me, perhaps there is a reason you don't want to dive deeper. That’s okay.

Self-honesty can feel threatening at first. Because the moment you stop blaming partners, timing, or circumstances…you start looking at the one relationship you actually have full responsibility for.

The one with yourself.

And that can be uncomfortable.

But it is also incredibly liberating.

Because when you stop auditioning for love, something shifts.

You stop asking:

“Am I doing enough?”

“Am I being chosen?”

“Am I getting it right?”

And you start asking:

“Am I being honest?”

“Am I honoring myself here?”

“Am I choosing courage over comfort?”

That’s self-loyalty.

And ironically, it’s also the foundation of the healthiest relationships you will ever have.

Because when you stop performing

you create space for real connection.

Not the curated, Instagram-ready version.

The messy.

Human.

Sometimes awkward.

But real version.

So even though Valentine's Day has come and gone for 2026, we can still use this moment to adjust the trajectory of our journeys.

If February is about love…

moving forward, let's make it honest.

---

💭 Reflection Prompt:

Instead of asking “Am I loved?”, try asking:

• Where in my life am I quietly abandoning myself?

• What truths about my needs or boundaries have I been avoiding?

• When was the last time I chose harmony over honesty?

• Do I feel like I can show up fully as myself in my relationships — or am I performing?

• What would self-loyalty look like for me right now?

And perhaps the most important one:

If I trusted myself fully, what would I do differently?

You don't have to answer everything today.

But noticing the questions is often the beginning of real change.

---

Choose yourself — honestly.

Be strong. Do it scared. 💜