LOVING OTHERS WITHOUT HATING YOURSELF [SPOKEN LECTURE — NATURAL FEMALE SPEAKING VOICE — DIRECT, WARM, GROUNDED — NO SINGING] Let me ask you something. How much of yourself have you been taught to give away in order to prove that you love somebody? Your time? Your money? Your peace? Your plans? Your boundaries? Your dignity? At what point did loving another person start requiring you to dislike the person you have to become to stay with them? [pause] We have romanticized sacrifice so much that some people don't recognize self-abandonment when they're living inside it. We say— “That's just what you do when you love somebody.” But is it? Because there is a difference between compromise and disappearance. Compromise says: We both adjust. Self-abandonment says: I keep adjusting until there is barely any me left. Those are not the same thing. [pause] You can love somebody and disagree with them. You can love somebody and disappoint them. You can love somebody and tell them no. You can love somebody and refuse to finance their chaos. You can love somebody and stop rescuing them from consequences they keep choosing. You can love somebody and leave. And here's the one people struggle with— you can love somebody and choose yourself. [pause] Choosing yourself doesn't automatically mean you're selfish. Sometimes choosing yourself means you finally included yourself among the people you believe deserve care. Think about that. You will defend everybody else's humanity. Their exhaustion. Their mistakes. Their childhood. Their trauma. Their bad day. Their financial problems. Their fears. Their reasons. You can find compassion for everybody. Then you turn toward yourself and suddenly— no excuses. No patience. No softness. No room to be human. Why? Why does everybody else get context... while you get condemnation? [pause] That's not love. And I'm not talking about their love for you. I'm talking about your relationship with yourself. Because sometimes the person mistreating you isn't the only person participating in your mistreatment. Sometimes you're helping. Every time you silence yourself to keep somebody comfortable. Every time you say yes while everything inside you is saying no. Every time you accept what you would tell somebody you love not to accept. Every time you call yourself stupid for having feelings. Every time you punish yourself for needing rest. Every time you betray your own boundary because somebody became upset that you had one. You participate in your own abandonment. [pause] And that can change. Not by becoming cold. Not by becoming selfish. Not by deciding you don't need anybody. That's not the lesson. The lesson is learning how to remain present in your relationships without leaving yourself at the door. [SPOKEN — FIRMER] Love them. But listen to yourself too. Support them. But check your own account. Help them. But look at your own capacity. Forgive them. But don't use forgiveness to erase patterns. Understand them. But don't understand somebody so completely that you explain away everything they do to you. Have compassion. But save some for yourself. [pause] You don't have to become less loving. You need to become more included in your own love. That's different. Because healthy love should not require one person to become smaller so another person can remain comfortable. It should have room for two whole people. Two voices. Two sets of needs. Two futures. Two boundaries. Two human beings who matter. [pause] And sometimes you will have to tolerate someone else's disappointment in order to stop living with your own. That's hard. Especially if you've spent years believing that being good means being agreeable. But somebody being upset with your boundary doesn't automatically mean your boundary is wrong. Some people will call your self-respect selfish because they benefited from your lack of it. Let them adjust. [pause] You have spent enough time learning how to love other people. Learn how to love them without turning against yourself. Learn how to say: I care about you— and I matter too. I understand you— and this still isn't acceptable. I forgive you— and I'm still changing my access. I love you— and the answer is still no. I want the best for you— and I will not destroy myself trying to provide it. [pause] That isn't hatred. That isn't revenge. That isn't abandonment. That's love with a boundary around it. And maybe the next level of loving people isn't learning how to give them more. Maybe it's learning how to love deeply... while finally refusing to give yourself away. [pause] Love them. Love them well. Just make sure you remain among the people you love.
