Be Your Own Damn Valentine

Valentine’s Day used to make me uncomfortable.

Not because I didn’t have someone — but because I had to live with myself, and for a long time… that felt like a raw deal.

When I first got sober, I didn’t recognize the woman in the mirror.

Actually, let’s tell the truth — I avoided her.

There was a solid stretch of time where I brushed my teeth with the bathroom light off because seeing my reflection before caffeine felt unnecessarily aggressive.

Some people practice self-love.
I practiced strategic darkness.

Early recovery is wild like that. Suddenly you have feelings again. Awareness. Memories that show up uninvited like emotional spam.

And underneath all of it?

Shame.

So much shame.

But healing rarely arrives in grand, cinematic moments. It shows up quietly.

One morning you flip the bathroom light on.
One day you hold eye contact with yourself a second longer.
One day you stop speaking to yourself like you’re the villain in your own story.

And without even realizing it… you begin staying on your own side.

Somewhere around years two through four, I entered what I now call my “visually convincing stability” era.

Makeup done.
Outfit intentional.
Hair handled.

I didn’t run into people — I arrived.

Looking back, it wasn’t vanity.

It was armor.

If I looked okay… maybe I was okay.

Spoiler alert: winged eyeliner is not a coping skill.

These days, I show up to house meetings in yoga pants. Hair in a clip. Zero performance.

Because I am no longer trying to prove I deserve to be in the room.

I know I do.

Evolution, bitches.

And here is something I never expected…

Now I quietly watch the women in my house wrestle with this same thing.

Some won’t come downstairs without full makeup — armor on, ready for inspection.

Others struggle just to shower because facing themselves feels overwhelming.

And listen… it is the same fight.

One hides behind perfection.
One hides through avoidance.

But both are asking the same quiet question:

Am I okay as I am?

Recovery teaches you something no one really says out loud:

The moment you stop abandoning yourself is the moment your life begins to change.

Not when you lose the weight.
Not when your past suddenly makes sense.
Not when everyone forgives you.

When you stop walking out on yourself.

When you sit with the messy parts instead of outrunning them.
When you offer yourself the same compassion you give everyone else.
When you realize you were never too much — you were just carrying too much alone.

That is the real glow-up.

Not perfection.

Loyalty to yourself.

Loving myself didn’t happen overnight. Love honestly felt like too big of a leap at first.

First came tolerance.
Then acceptance.
Then respect.

Now there are days I catch myself thinking,
She’s actually kind of a badass.

Growth is shocking like that.

Do not misunderstand — I am still deeply human. I still have days where I am overstimulated, under-caffeinated, and one minor inconvenience away from needing everyone to stop talking immediately.

But the difference now?

I don’t abandon myself anymore.

And that might be the greatest thing recovery ever gave me.

So this Valentine’s Day, here is what I want to say — especially if loving yourself still feels a little out of reach:

Turn the bathroom light on.

Look at her.

Stay.

You don’t have to love her yet.

Just don’t leave.

Because one day you will look up and realize you are falling in like with the woman staring back at you…

and that is where everything begins.