The Friend You Can’t Afford to Ignore

I have a friend I respect and admire very much. She understands her boundaries. She knows her strengths. And when something feels off, she gets curious.

She wears makeup and jewelry to the grocery store—not because anyone there is expecting it, but because it makes her feel good about herself. She takes herself to a restaurant she has been wanting to try. She travels alone because she wants to experience the culture, see the sights, and enjoy the freedom of deciding where she wants to go. And when she returns, she enthusiastically shares her discoveries with others.

She knows that being honest with herself matters. She pays attention to what she needs and wants because she wants to be fully alive. And, most importantly,  more fully present for the people she loves.

She is genuinely a friend to herself.

That makes me wonder:

How would we treat ourselves differently if we really thought of ourselves as a true friend?

We know what it means to be a good friend. We listen. We encourage. We celebrate. We forgive. We notice when our friend needs rest, adventure, beauty, laughter, or simply some time alone.

But how often do we offer those same things to ourselves? For some of us, putting ourselves first can feel selfish. Maybe we have been taught that good people take care of others over themselves.

But there is a difference between putting yourself first and putting yourself above everyone else. This isn't about narcissism or vanity. It's about not leaving yourself out. Because if you don't know yourself, how can you know what you need? And if you don't take care of yourself, how long can you continue being there for everyone else?

Self-knowledge and self-care aren't selfish. They are the foundation for being fully present and available to the people we love.

So, what do you genuinely like about yourself? Is it what you have accomplished, what you have produced, how useful you are to others? 

What values do you genuinely honor about you?

Maybe you are curious. Funny. Loyal. Creative. A good listener. Maybe you make people feel welcome. Maybe you have survived hard things and kept going.

And what are you proud of that you have done for yourself?

Did you take a chance? Leave something that wasn't right? Learn something new? Ask for help? Begin again? Make a difficult decision? Give yourself permission to rest?

We are often remarkably generous in celebrating the accomplishments of people we love. Why not celebrate ourselves, too?

Wear the beautiful sweater. Use the good dishes. Buy the flowers. Eat the good food. Make your surroundings peaceful, joyful, or beautiful because you live there.

And what about your curiosity? If your best friend said, “I've always wanted to try this,” would you encourage them? Maybe honoring yourself means taking a class, visiting a new place, learning something new, or traveling somewhere by yourself.

Sometimes solitude gives us the chance to hear ourselves without the noise of everyone else's expectations. It also gives us the opportunity to ask: What do I really want? What do I need? What isn't working anymore?

And when we don't get it right? We can practice being kind to ourselves without giving ourselves a free pass. Perhaps a better question than “What's wrong with me?” is: “What can I learn from this that will help me become kinder, wiser, stronger, or more aligned with my values?” If the answer helps you grow, listen. If it only makes you smaller, perhaps your best friend would respond differently.

Maybe being your own best friend starts with considering what delights you, what drains you, what you are proud of, what you've been longing to try, what makes you feel beautiful, peaceful, alive, or playful, or what you need.

Then treat those discoveries as worthy of attention.

I offer that being your own best friend isn't narcissism. It isn't vanity. It isn't self-indulgence. It is learning to live in a relationship with yourself that has room for honesty, kindness, curiosity, boundaries, celebration, and growth. And perhaps most importantly, it is recognizing that you are someone worth taking care of.

Not instead of everyone else. Alongside everyone else.

So here's a little experiment:

For the next week, imagine you are spending time with your very best friend—and that friend is you.

What would you do together?

A couple of things to consider:

• What is one thing you genuinely like about yourself that you might begin appreciating more?

• What is one small way you could treat yourself this week as you would someone you love very much?

You don't have to become someone new.

You may simply need to become a better friend to the person you've been with all along.

In your corner,

Linda

PS: Perhaps you have missed my last few blogs. You can always catch up with them on my Substack page or on my website.