You’re Not Broken. You’re Just Awake.

I was aimlessly doom-scrolling through Instagram when I stumbled across a reel that asked:

“What’s one thing you learned that changed everything?”

Curious, I went straight to the comments (obviously). I didn’t expect much—just passing time. But the first reply hit me harder than I’d like to admit:

“If you are trying to love yourself, you already love yourself. Where do you think the trying comes from?”

Over 17,000 likes. So, clearly, I wasn’t alone in that.

Loving myself is something I’ve always struggled with. There were times I couldn’t even look in the mirror. My inner voice would dissect me—my appearance, my choices, my thoughts, my movements.

I’ve been trying to improve myself for as long as I can remember. Reading self-help books, diving into psychology, studying philosophy, changing my diet, rewiring my habits. At thirteen, I was reading about neuro-linguistic programming while other kids were just trying to pass maths. I wasn’t trying to impress anyone. I just had to get better.

Because I didn’t like where I came from.

Even as a kid, I was painfully aware of the people around me—their social standing, financial stress, emotional shutdowns—and I couldn’t understand why no one seemed to push for more. Why weren’t they trying to be better? Why were they okay with being stuck?

It baffled me. Did they not see what I saw? Did they not realise there was more to life?

Looking back now, maybe they lived in denial. Or maybe they didn’t have the same awareness—something I’ve never been able to switch off. I still don’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse to see things so clearly and feel things so deeply. To know there’s more, but not always know how to reach it.

For a long time, I assumed I hated myself. I think others did too. They watched me constantly break down parts of my life, rebuild, reinvent, reimagine. My ambition has often been mistaken for madness or insecurity. I’ve heard it over and over again:

“You need to learn to love yourself.”

The idea being—if I truly loved myself, I’d stop. I’d settle. I’d be satisfied.

But I never wanted to settle.

And maybe that’s the point.

That comment—that single sentence—flipped something in my brain:

“If you are trying to love yourself, you already love yourself.”

Because why else would I keep showing up for myself? Why else would I keep trying?

Trying is love.

Love isn't just soft and warm. Sometimes it’s sharp. Sometimes it looks like effort, discipline, questioning, rebuilding. Real love does the hard thing. It holds you to a higher standard.

I’ve always believed that when you truly love someone, you’ll do anything for them.

Turns out, I’d do anything for me too.

And that changes everything.

Because if all that effort wasn’t rooted in hate—but in care, in value, in belief—then maybe I’ve been loving myself all along, just in ways that weren’t obvious. Not the kind of self-love you post about on Sundays, but the kind that builds quietly in the background. The kind that fights for a better life, even when no one’s watching. Even when it hurts.

And maybe the same is true for you.

Maybe you’ve spent years thinking you’re broken. That you’re behind. That you need to fix something in order to be worthy.

But what if all that trying—every goal you’ve set, every time you’ve said “enough,” every version of yourself you’ve outgrown—was actually love?

What if the fact you’re still here, still searching, still reaching for more, is proof that deep down, you believe you’re worth the effort?

You don’t have to feel like you love yourself all the time. Love isn’t always loud or obvious. Sometimes it’s subtle. Sometimes it’s stubborn. Sometimes it’s just refusing to give up.

So if you’re in a season where it feels like you’re not enough…If you’re tearing yourself apart trying to grow…If you’re exhausted from carrying the weight of always wanting more…

Pause for a second.

And realise:

The trying isn’t failure. The trying is love.

You’re not as far away from self-love as you think. You’re already living it.

And that changes everything.

Let's keep going on that war with ourself.