For a few years after my divorce, I went too far in the direction of trying to heal all my shit on my own. I believed I needed to reach some particular level of self-love before I could have a good relationship.
That is bullshit.
We are not meant to learn to love ourselves completely by ourselves. Once a certain level of self-awareness and taking responsibility can happen, we heal the rest of the way in romantic partnership.
For many of us, healing through romantic relationship is not a failure of self-love, but a natural stage of emotional development.
Unconsciously, after years of abusive relationships, gaslighting, ghosting, and shitty romances where I let myself be taken for granted or opened up inadvisably only to be abandoned, I had absorbed the "spiritual" idea that this was all my fault because I didn't love myself enough.
Instead of calling out this behavior for what it was, I only looked at my part and blamed myself (and yeah, part of it was that I did need better boundaries).
I probably over-indexed on ‘doing the work,’ but the only variable I had control over was my actions.
So, I shored up my self-love. I let myself actually enjoy being by myself and stopped needing other people to manage my anxiety. I investigated my attachment style, my core wounds, and my values. I practiced setting boundaries and dared to believe it was okay to want what I wanted. I observed my triggers and developed the capacity to respond rather than react.
But I still felt, deep down, that I was fundamentally flawed. I was still highly critical of myself. And I didn't see a way to transform this on my own. It’s hard to catch without a mirror.
When I finally got the chance to be in relationship with a secure, aware, compassionate, honest man, I knew I was right. Some transformations take two.
This is what secure attachment actually feels like when you experience it in real time.
He saw me fully, and he loved me immediately. He cared so much that he tracked me carefully and came to know what I needed better than I knew myself. He always responded to my messages and often sent sweet ones first. He wanted to share adventures, trade articles, and listen to podcasts together. When I was suffering, he held me. He found it normal—not needy—that I wanted to be near him. He wanted to be near me, too. He wasn't judgmental of my high sex drive. He wanted me, too.
And in this light, something deep in me finally soothed. I finally settled. I finally KNEW—there was nothing fundamentally wrong with me.
Saying it to myself was not enough. Hearing it from friends or a therapist didn't go deep enough. I needed to know it on the deepest level of my being. And for me, this could only come from a lover.
There is only so far we can go on our own.
I realized I'd been expecting to be mistreated. That things would be hard. That I wouldn't be listened to, wouldn't get my needs met, wouldn't feel respected. I still flinched sometimes, or felt panic closing in during conversation—so accustomed was my nervous system to being yelled at.
I actually had no idea a relationship could be this easy, this nurturing, this fulfilling, deep, and healing. This MUTUAL.
"You are so easy to love," he said, over and over. "You are easy to get along with." "You have a solid foundation of awesome human."
It hadn't occurred to me this might be the case.
Feeling loved, seen, appreciated, and desired in this way dissolved my anxiety. I found myself loving from a place that felt beautiful and secure. I had no worries about our love or our relationship. I didn't need or want to be with him all the time. Pining didn't consume my life. I wasn't anxious that he would drop me at the slightest opportunity for another woman.
He was every inch a man, a delicious masculine presence, and part of that fullness came from being so in touch with himself emotionally and somatically. Profound respect.
I was able to love him and want the best for him without it feeling sticky. To go really deep in care, trust, and growth together from a balanced place. To learn what he needed and provide it, as he did for me.
But I didn't need him to be okay myself. Once I'd felt what it was to be actually respected, met, and cared for by a romantic partner, I could finally do it for myself.
Self love and relationships are not opposing paths — they reinforce each other.
We knew from the beginning that our relationship would have to end. This was a love story, not a life story. On one practical level: I was leaving the country and long-distance wasn’t an option. It had been a courageous act for both of us to open to love and with it, the inevitable pain of separation. Yet when we parted, it felt beautiful. We did it intentionally, with compliments, a ritual, and goodbye sex.
Even breaking up with this man was healing.
While there's a certain amount of introspection and self-growth we all need to do, we don't need to be perfectly happy with ourselves to have the love of another.
The love of another is part of the journey to fully loving.
To every man who has skillfully loved a woman this way: thank you from the bottom of my heart.
If this story resonates, you’re not broken — and you don’t have to do it alone.
I work with individuals and couples who want relationships that are secure, honest, and deeply nourishing.
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