To Love Others Well, Love Yourself

When was the last time I ate?

Have. No. Idea.

Can I survive on four hours of sleep?

I am.

How am I feeling?

I’m not sure. Is that important?

This Q&A goes on and on inside my head, reminding me of the many ways I have neglected and overlooked myself.

In a culture where love is promoted, encouraged, sometimes even shoved in our faces, many of us have learned to love everyone except the most important person in our lives: ourselves.

We love the children we have been given, giving them our time, energy, and attention. Our partners and family members get what we have left: our thoughts, our hearts, more of our time. We pour into those we love selflessly and without thought, as if to do anything else would be a catastrophic narcissistic event. We have been taught that love is a gift to be given freely and without hesitation.

While we pour out our love onto others, we also expend ourselves in the services of work and community. Whatever attention and time we have not already given to our families, we give to our work. The passion and selflessness that we pour into the work we do is infinite. Many of us find that we have lost our sense of self and identity in our work.

I recently stepped away from a job to which I gave all of my time, attention, energy, and thought. After years of building a successful program, I realized I had lost something: a sense of self. I had put so much of my heart into my work; I allowed my work to determine my identity. I gave and gave to it, losing sleep at night, scheduling meetings when I should have been eating, forgetting to take time for me,  time to rejuvenate, reflect, and relax.

When the work was over, and I was left with myself, I did not know who I was or what to do next. Did I even love my work? I had no idea. In the busyness of successfully completing the work, I had failed to take time to think about why I was doing it or what I wanted from it. Did I even know I could have expectations of my work, of those around me? I knew the expectations they had of me and did everything in my power to fulfill those expectations; however, I did not expect much in return.

As my love extended to my family, my work obligations, the children and women who needed my attention and my time, I neglected myself, never asking or expecting anything in return. I neglected myself in favor of my unending to-do list. I neglected myself in favor of making sure those around me were cared for, loved, and had everything they needed. I neglected myself in favor of success in the workplace.

I loved everyone around me, but not myself. I gave to everyone in my sphere, but not to myself. And when the weight of it all suddenly felt heavy and unbearable, I heard the still small voice in my mind say, I love you. You are the apple of my eye. Let me care for you. Let others love on you. What do you need?

What did I need? What time, attention, energy, and heart did I require? I hadn’t the slightest idea. When I snuck away to spend time with the One whose love I needed most, I became aware of my neglect. Does anyone win in such a situation? When Jesus died for the sins of the world out of love for the world, was I not included in that love fest?

If I have the love of the Savior, why did I not think I deserved my own love?

In loving ourselves, we must also give ourselves our time, attention, and passion. What would life look like if we were as passionate about ourselves as we are about the people around us and the work we are charged to do? What would be different? What would we stop doing? What would we start doing? What needs that have been neglected would start being fulfilled?

That is what I learned as I nestled in with Jesus, basking in his love for me: He is passionate about me. He has plans for me. He longs to see me laugh, dance, and be carefree. He wants to make sure I am cared for and thought of. And he wants me to love me. To take time to get to know myself.

As I learn to love myself and be mindful of my own needs, I find that I love others more. I am to give of myself more fully. I know why I do my work and enjoy doing, yet it is no longer my identity. I work out of joy and desire rather than to perform. I know that I am enough. I know that whether my work is successful or not, I am loved.

I am loved by the God who sees me for myself.

The greatest lesson I am learning as I learn to love myself is that in the midst of loving others, I must choose to love myself as well. For if I do not love myself, it will be impossible to love others well.

Father, thank you for loving us. Teach us how to love and care for ourselves as you care for us. Amen.

Dominique (Domi) Shanks is a Jesus-loving, introvert, bibliophile. She is an Arizona native living in Nashville, TN where she serves on the Women’s Department and prayer team at her church. Dominique aspires to be a writer who leads her readers to Jesus. Spain, her twin sister, and her family hold her entire heart.

Photograph © Leyli Nova, used with permission