Treat Others How You Want to Be Treated — But What If You Don’t Treat Yourself Well?
Don't get me wrong, it's a nice sentiment but seriously, what if you treat yourself like crap?
"Treat others the way you want to be treated." That’s what they say. Don’t get me wrong — it’s a nice sentiment. But what if you don’t treat yourself well in the first place? That’s something I wrote about in my journal last year.
I realized I treated others better than I treated myself. I can’t tell you when it started, because I’ve been doing it for so long that I honestly never questioned it — it just felt normal. But to understand why I did this, you’d have to understand how I treated me.
When I failed, I was mean to myself. I’d beat myself up and feel ashamed, especially if I had shared that goal or idea. Now someone else was able to see my failure? Eek. That didn’t feel good. However, you wouldn’t be able to tell from the outside. I’ve always believed in the power of words, so I spoke about failure as a part of growth. I encouraged others to see setbacks as preparation, not defeat. But my internal dialogue didn’t match the affirmative words I spoke out loud.
I held myself to what I called a “higher standard,” but it was more like harmful! I expected myself to be encouraging, kind, respectful, and to create space for others to be vulnerable. I did that … for them. I didn’t do it for me.
If a friend didn’t text back, I gave grace: “Life happens.” But if I didn’t text back? I was a bad friend.
If someone hurt me, I assumed their intentions were good. But if I made a mistake? I saw myself as someone who hurts people.
By the end of last year, I realized I needed more — and that I had different expectations of my friends and partners than I did of myself. I wanted them to celebrate my wins, but I didn’t celebrate them myself. Even now, I promised myself I’d celebrate every time I hit my writing goals. And guess what? I’ve hit those goals every month this year. I’m three celebrations behind and still making excuses for why I don’t have time this month. That’s not alignment. That’s asking for change without practicing it. That’s like praying for financial relief while ordering takeout every night. The Creator responds when we show that we’re ready.
I wanted words of affirmation from the people I loved — but I didn’t offer them to myself. Not even a simple “You’re beautiful” or “You did a good job,” even though I believed those things were true. I had clung to a love language test I took a decade ago that told me words didn’t matter to me. But that was a 20-year-old version of me — someone who had dropped out of college, experienced trauma, and couldn’t look at herself in the mirror without discomfort.
Now I’m 30, with an MBA, ten years of therapy, and a love for the skin I’m in — regardless of how it changes. My needs have evolved. I’ve changed.
Back then, my love languages were (in this order): quality time, physical touch, acts of service, gifts, and words of affirmation.
Now, they’re: quality time, words of affirmation, gifts, acts of service, and physical touch.
The things I used to need least are the things I now crave most. And that’s not weakness — it’s simply evolution. To be human is to be constantly changing.
So why do we still shame neediness? Why do we praise people who need “nothing” and criticize those who ask for more? Is it that some people truly need less… or have they just taught themselves not to need anything? We’ve each shamed neediness, whether in others or in ourselves.
I used to think my needs were a burden. A girl once told me I was “too needy,” and that stuck. But someone later told me, “Being needy is normal — it’s about finding people who are okay with your level of need.” That changed everything. It made me stop internalizing shame for being human.
I wanted people to let me cry and be flawed. But I’d hide those moments because I didn’t want to change their image of me as strong, successful, and resourceful. I thought showing the opposite meant I was lying about who I was. But that is far from the truth.
I’m not just strong. I’m resilient. Resilience means not giving up. It means learning from experience and accepting the fruit that comes from heartbreak or failure. I believe this life is sacred — and I once took it for granted.
I am successful — and I’m often insecure about that success. I have imposter syndrome, but I show up anyway. I was nervous to call myself an athlete, but now I own that identity. I doubted myself as a project manager, but every project I take on is done with excellence to the best of my ability.
I am resourceful — not because I want to do everything alone, but because I’ve learned that I may need to. So to me being resourceful is not something I want to do, it’s something I need to do. I won’t let the limits I see stop me.
I am a resilient dreamer, an insecure achiever, and a necessity-born resourcer.
For ten years, I achieved to prove people wrong — people who have no idea the weight their words carried. And in doing that, I treated myself like I was my own taskmaster. I didn’t rest until I checked off every box.
But this new chapter? It’s different. Since January, I’ve started holding my heart with care. I’ve created boundaries and stuck to most of them — even when others in my circle vocalized their discomfort. I stopped initiating conversations because I was doing it based on what I thought others might want, not because I truly wanted to. I started asking for deadline extensions without guilt; I wear multiple hats, so taking time to do things is just a part of life. I stepped away from long phone calls I didn’t have energy for — because I had been giving others the time they needed without considering the time I needed to give myself.
I began giving myself the same consideration I so freely gave to others.
I used to treat others the way they wanted to be treated — because if I treated them how I treated myself… I wouldn’t have many friends. Now, I treat others the way I want to be treated — but that meant first learning how to treat myself better.
Changing your self-talk is worth it.
Letting go of others’ emotional reactions is liberating.
Giving yourself the same grace you give others — that is healing.
So, if you want to treat others the way you want to be treated… start by treating yourself the way you deserve to be treated. Because caring for yourself isn’t selfish. It’s the foundation of strength, integrity, and love.