Me, Myself and I

Hello!  Welcome back.

In this blog I’m talking about something that might sound a bit odd at first: your relationship with yourself. Whilst our relationships with others matter enormously, many of us fail to recognise this foundational relationship from which all others happen. This primary relationship, the one we have with ourselves, is often sidelined, neglected, or missed entirely whilst we focus outward on everyone else.

If that sounds unfamiliar or even uncomfortable, you're not alone.

The problem: we've been trained to look away

Most of us have spent our lives being told, directly or indirectly, that paying attention to ourselves is selfish. The right way to live is to look after everybody else first - to be selfless, generous and kind to our neighbours.

Whilst those are wonderful qualities, somewhere along the way, we've missed the second half of the biblical instruction: “love your neighbour as yourself”. Not instead of yourself but as yourself.

We can only truly love others as much as we can love ourselves. We might run around doing doing doing, serving serving serving, but is that really love? Or is it just exhaustion and / or pleasing dressed up as virtue?

Many of us have become so practised at self-abandonment that we don't even notice we're doing it. We ignore our body's signals. We don't go to the loo when we need to, or bed when we’re tired or we skip meals or overeat. We fill every moment with distraction, scrolling, television, back-to-back meetings; anything to avoid sitting quietly with ourselves.

And when we do catch a glimpse of ourselves in the mirror, we're more likely to critique a blemish or a spot or a grey hair than to look into our own eyes and ask, "How are you today?"

Why this happens: patterns, trauma, and “the trance”

This disconnection from our true selves doesn't come from nowhere. Usually it begins in childhood where we learn patterns of relating and coping that become so automatic, we don't realise we have a choice. Perhaps you learned that being "good" meant putting everyone else first. Perhaps your attention was trained outward towards parents, teachers, siblings and never inward.

For some of us, self-abandonment is a trauma response. When “home” (as in being present in your own body and nervous system) hasn't felt safe, it makes sense to leave, to dissociate, to become a robot sleepwalking through life whilst the real you hides somewhere safer.

If you're thinking, "that’s a bit dramatic, I don't have trauma," bear in mind that trauma comes in many shapes and sizes and it's not always obvious. Sometimes it can be the result of many years of being told your needs / wants / preferences don't matter.

Over time, this can become a ‘trance’. You might be highly successful on the outside, thriving at work and admired by others whilst on the inside you feel tiny, lost, or like an imposter. Or perhaps it’s the opposite - you've never quite managed to shine, to fully step into all you could be.

Either way, the work is the same: coming back into relationship with yourself.  Coming home.

What helps: small, gentle practices

The good news? This is the one relationship, in fact the only relationship, where you have complete agency. You can make a real difference here.

Here are some ways to begin:

Look in the mirror - really look. Not to squeeze a spot or fix your hair, but to look deep into your own eyes and say, "Hello. How are you today?" And then pause.  Take a few breaths and really look into your eyes.  It might feel strange at first - you might cry or want to laugh. That's okay. Just keep breathing and stay with yourself.  It's a moment of recognition, of seeing the real you, not the mask you present to the world.

Ask yourself: "Am I abandoning myself right now?" It's a strong question, but a useful one. Are you ignoring your body's needs? Filling your time to avoid being alone? Saying yes when you want to say no? Just noticing is the first step.

Try journaling or morning pages. Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way suggests writing three pages every morning—uncensored, unconsidered, unstructured. Just write. It's a beautiful way to grow your understanding of who's in there.

Take yourself on a date. Not a frivolous outing (though that's fine too), but a genuine date with yourself. Go for a walk. Visit an art gallery. Sit in a park. The point isn't to be productive—it's to take yourself seriously enough to spend time with yourself.

Tune into your body. Instead of asking, "How am I doing?" try asking, "How am I feeling - in my body?" Notice sensations. Is your throat tight? Your chest beating hard? Your fingers tingling? These physical feelings are messages. As you notice them, they begin to shift.

Practice concious self-talk—out loud if you can. It might feel odd, but talking to yourself kindly can be transformative. Ask, "Are you okay? Do you need a break? Is this job right for you?" or affirm yourself “You can do this.  I’m proud of you.  Well done”

Walk mindfully. Leave the headphones at home sometimes. Feel the breeze on your cheeks. Notice the sky. As someone once said, "Nature is unrelentingly loving you."

The both/and-ness of it all

Here's something important: this isn't about being perfect. It's not about getting it right all the time or becoming some idealised version of yourself.  It’s about opening to the possibility that you are good enough exactly as you are right here right now.  In fact, you are exactly where you are meant to be!

Some days you'll do brilliantly. Other days you'll forget entirely and slip back into old patterns. That's okay. This is moment-to-moment work. And it's not black and white—it's gloriously nuanced.

You might walk with loud music blasting in your ears and still be loving yourself in that moment. You might need to ignore your body's signals during a rehearsal or meeting, and that's fine as long as it doesn't become your entire lifestyle.

The key is recognising that underneath all your so-called flaws and failings, you are utterly unique. One of 8 billion people on this planet. No one sees, hears, smells, tastes, or feels things quite like you do. And your contribution, your creativity, your perspective, your gnarly, crunchy bits is irreplaceable.

You're not alone

Most of us need support with this relationship, even though it's our relationship with ourselves. We need friends who will reflect back the truth about ourselves and our lives when our inner voice is being downright mean – eg catastrophising or calling us names. We may choose to find a therapist or teacher, read books or listen to podcasts, whatever helps us wake up from the ‘trance’ and come back into reality.

If this blog has struck a chord, you might like to explore the work of Pete Walker on feelings, self-abandonment and trauma, or Tara Brach on recognising and emerging from trance states. Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way is full of practical exercises for reconnecting with yourself.

And of course, if you'd like to hear more of these ideas explored in conversation, do listen to the episode this blog is based on. Sometimes it helps to hear these things spoken aloud.

A final thought

Your relationship with yourself is the one relationship where you truly have power. Others will do what they do, be how they'll be. But you? You can make a real difference here.

This is a relationship well worth the investment. And if you commit, you’ll find it never gets boring – there’s always more to discover because you are endlessly fascinating, complex, and worthy of your own attention.

So perhaps today, just for a moment, you might pause and say hello to yourself. Not the perfect version. Not the improved version. Just the you you are, right here, right now.

How are you feeling?

For more resources, book recommendations, and links to the therapists and teachers mentioned in this blog, visit thesexandrelationshipspodcast.com