February asks us to think about love—romantic love, friendship, devotion, connection. But I think that the hardest and most unfamiliar form of love is the one we’re meant to offer ourselves. I didn’t grow up loving myself past about fifth grade. In fact, once middle school hit, I lived with a constant feeling that something was wrong with me. I didn’t have language for it until recently, and found a valid description in the words of Tara Brach as the “trance of unworthiness.” That deep, internalized belief that we are somehow not enough—and that we must become someone else to belong.
When we live inside that trance, love feels completely out of reach, something that happens to all the other people out there who have it figured out. And when we don’t feel worthy of love, we look for relief wherever we can find it. For me, that meant almost a lifetime of engaging in behaviors that were self-destructive—not because I didn’t care about myself, but because I didn’t know how to care for myself.
Tara Brach’s teachings offer us relief through a much different doorway. At the heart of her work is the practice of radical acceptance—the willingness to meet ourselves exactly as we are, without trying to fix, judge, or improve the moment. The way we would meet a sweet, small child, or a best friend. In this way, we drop judgement and instead become our own best friend. We work toward being genuinely kind to ourselves and befriend our inner experience with intimacy and care.
Ironically, acceptance doesn’t mean we stay where we are if change is needed. It means we stop moving from fear, self-rejection, or the belief that something is wrong with us. Action still happens—but now it comes from wisdom, self-trust, and compassion. True change becomes possible not because we push harder, but because we’re no longer fighting ourselves. And from that steadier, kinder place, the next right step reveals itself.
Perhaps this is where love truly begins—not in striving to become someone better or different, but in the courageous act of turning toward ourselves just as we are. When we meet our lives with honesty, tenderness, and acceptance, love is no longer something we earn or chase; it becomes something we practice. And from that place of self-belonging, everything else—connection, healing, and wise action—can finally blossom.
