I’ve always prided myself on being a helluva wingwoman. A genuine hype girl. You could be excited about lizards, and although I’m not gonna hold one, I’d still clap in glee as you threw it over your shoulder, wrapped it around your neck, and did whatever other wild things reptile lovers do. I don’t know what it is, but there’s something about seeing people lit up, passionate, joyful, and deep in their creativity, that genuinely turns me on.
I was on vacation recently with a friend when she busted into the splits on the island sands. I peeled into such a loud cheer that a guy swimming nearby turned to me and said, “You’re the hype girl, huh?” Then, after a pause, “Me too, for my boys.”
He wasn’t wrong. I am the hype girl. I’m genuinely thrilled for other people. Their joy makes me happier. And it’s a great thing… until it’s not.
Because the downside of being obsessed with other people’s happiness is this: historically, I’ve been terrible at leaving people alone. Especially when they’re sad, stuck, or suffering. Especially when I love them. For years, you could find me jumping around like a clown, determined to “make you happy” at all costs. Encouraging you, challenging you, checking in, sacrificing myself willingly at the foot of your pain, just for the hope of a single smile.
I used to think that was love. Noble, even. Until the day I realized that now there are two unhappy people at the party. You, with your heaviness. And me, trying to wring joy from you, just so I could sip a little bit for myself.
It took a long time to admit it, but my desire to make others feel good wasn’t always about them. I needed their joy to feel safe. I thought that prioritizing myself was selfish. But the irony of that kind of self-sacrificing love, is that it’s not really love at all. It’s abandonment of the very person I am most responsible for… me.
I’ve come to believe that choosing myself first is actually one of the most loving things I can do. Not just for me, but for everyone. A sign of mature love is when I show up for myself, even if it makes other people uncomfortable. When I move through the world from a place of self-honoring, I’m not asking anyone else to be responsible for my joy.
What Does It Mean to Choose Myself First?
Choosing myself first doesn’t mean shutting other people out or walking around with a “me first” attitude. It means slowing down long enough to actually hear myself, my body, my feelings, my intuition, and deciding from that place what direction I want to go in at any given time.
Choosing myself starts with giving myself permission to take the space to breathe, think, feel and to be, before I do. The act of giving myself that space, and not rushing to please others or provide answers, is a radical act of self-love. It’s an act of freedom.
I think about how many times I’ve rushed to respond to a text, to say yes, to make a plan, or to fix something, simply because I didn’t want to keep someone waiting. Or because I didn’t want them to feel uncomfortable in the not-knowing. And I think about how often I’ve done that same thing to others—pushing for answers, timelines and clarity because I was the one who couldn’t sit in the space between.
But choosing myself first means honoring the space and trusting that I’m allowed to take my time. That I can sit with discomfort, and not rush to make it disappear. It means listening inward before I look outward and asking, What do I need right now? What feels true for me? before asking, What will make everyone else happy? Because my peace, clarity and timing matters.
This isn’t always easy, especially when you’re used to being the reliable one, or when your identity has been wrapped up in how useful or available or selfless you are. But, choosing myself first is not a betrayal of others, it’s honoring myself. And it’s how I’ve learned to move from self-abandonment to self-respect and from fear-based action to freedom-based living.
Related: What Unrequited Love Teaches Us About Life (If We Let It)
Practical Ways That I Choose Myself First
This whole “choosing myself first” thing didn’t happen in one big, dramatic moment. Although I have made some bold, defining decisions over the past few years to reclaim my life. But the real evidence that I’m choosing myself has shown up more subtly over time, as I’ve begun to slow down long enough to really listen to my body and to my intuition. And as those small choices have stacked up, I’ve come to realize, “Ahh, this is what it looks like to choose me, first.”
I don’t respond immediately to everything.
I was talking to a guy recently over coffee about modern dating. He started sharing his take on the current landscape of relationships and said something that stuck with me, “Your phone is right next to you. It shouldn’t take you hours to respond. You obviously aren’t interested.”
I thought about how often I’ve rushed to reply, just so people wouldn’t form their own narratives about what my silence might mean. Not just in dating, but in friendships, work, and family dynamics. I used to feel responsible for managing what people might assume if I took too long. But I no longer take responsibility for anyone else’s internal narrative.
If I’ve got things on my plate, if I’m still deciding whether it’s a yes or a no, or if I simply don’t feel like rushing to respond, that’s okay. That trust in my own timing, is me honoring me.
I don’t say Yes out of self-imposed pressure or social obligation.
I love a good social outing, and most people who know me know this. More often than not, I am a Yes girl. If you want to kick it, I want you to be able to kick it, and I want to kick it with you. I know how much it means when someone says Yes to one of my invitations, and I’ve carried that awareness with me for a long time.
But for years, I said Yes to things just because they sounded fun in theory… or because I didn’t want to disappoint anyone. And then I’d find myself standing in a crowd or sitting in an audience on a Saturday night, wondering why I was there. Feeling resentful, not toward my friend, but toward myself for not honoring what I really wanted.
These days, I stop before I agree. I ask myself, Does this actually sound like something I want to do? I imagine myself at the event and feel into it. Do I light up? Or do I feel a resistance? If it’s a No, I trust that. I decline with love and clarity.
That’s not to say I never say Yes to things I’m not super amped about. Sometimes I’ll go to something just because I want to support someone I care about. But I only do that when I feel free. Free to say Yes or No, and to honor myself. That freedom is what makes the Yes genuine, and not a betrayal of my own peace.
I choose to remain silent.
I’ve got a lot to say, which you probably already know if you’ve been reading this blog (ha!). But I’m learning that not everything has to be explained or expressed, especially when it comes to my personal life or professional world.
Everyone in my life doesn’t need to know where I am, what I’m doing, what’s happening in my love life, my business, or my bank account at all times. I’m allowed to hold things close. To keep certain seasons sacred, and to give myself time to process before inviting others in—or to not invite them in at all!
I used to think that sharing was how you built intimacy. That withholding meant I was being cold or distant. But now I see that silence isn’t always a wall, it can be a loving boundary and a reminder that I get to decide what parts of my life are public and what gets to stay private.
Sometimes choosing myself looks like speaking up. But more and more, it looks like knowing when I don’t have to say anything at all.
I tell people what I want.
This one’s been a bit of a dance for me. For a long time, I was the one always organizing things, leading in relationships, planning the social gatherings, pushing forward work ideas. But after a while, I started to feel frustrated. I felt like I was constantly hitting resistance from the people around me. My enthusiasm wasn’t being met, and eventually, that wore me down. So I swung in the opposite direction.
I figured, You know what? I’ll just go with the flow. If I say Yes to what everyone else wants, maybe I’ll be happy enough. I convinced myself that my preferences weren’t as strong or important as other people’s. That I could adapt and find a way to be okay with whatever was on the table. Truthfully, I did get really good at going with the flow. But I lost touch with my own current.
These days, I’m learning how to strike a balance—how to honor the desires of others without erasing my own. I still consider myself easy-going. I still love saying yes to other people’s ideas and spontaneity. But I’m also in touch again with what brings me joy. I’m paying attention to what lights me up, and I’m not afraid to name it.
I don’t need to dominate the plan, but I do want to have a voice in it. And that, to me, is part of choosing myself too.
I leave people alone.
Like I said earlier, historically, I’ve been terrible at leaving people alone. Especially when they’re sad, stuck, or suffering. Especially when I love them.
For most of my life, I thought love meant intervening, offering support, checking in, challenging them, encouraging growth. But over time, I’ve learned that I can’t rescue anyone if I haven’t put my own oxygen mask on first. And even then, I can’t help someone who refuses to put theirs on. Or worse, someone trying to rip mine off my face while I’m gasping for air.
I love people deeply. But I’ve come to understand that sometimes, leaving them alone is the kindest thing I can do for me, and the most empowering thing I can do for them. Plus, I’ve figured out that no-one enjoys a know-it-all or someone who just won’t let them figure stuff out for themselves. And I say this as someone who makes a living as a life coach!
I no longer overextend myself trying to change someone who isn’t ready. I no longer stick around past the expiration date, hoping my presence alone will inspire transformation. Instead, I step away with an open heart, and a discerning mind. And if they ever do come around, I’ll still be here. But I’ll be here unbothered.
How You Can Begin to Choose Yourself Too
I’d still say I’m a helluva wingwoman. A few months ago, a friend blew up my phone one Saturday afternoon, begging me to go with her to a dinner party hosted by some new guy she liked. I already had plans that night to cozy up on my couch with a pizza and a cheesy Netflix movie. It had been a big day of fun, and I was so ready to cap it off with a quiet solo night in.
That night, I chose to rally. I threw on some Cardi B, shaved my legs, hyped myself up, and went on to be the world’s best hype girl. My friend scored, she was thrilled, and honestly, I had a great time too.
But those moments are becoming fewer and farther between. These days, I choose myself more and more, because I’ve come to trust that my peace and my energy are worth protecting. Choosing myself isn’t a rejection of others, it’s a devotion to myself and what makes me happy.
If you’re wondering how to choose yourself first, know that it doesn’t have to be a dramatic life overhaul. Sometimes it begins with one honest “No, thanks!”. One night where you let yourself stay in instead of going out of guilt or obligation. You don’t have to abandon your relationships or harden your heart. You just have to stop abandoning yourself to make others comfortable.
What do you need right now? Where are you saying Yes when your body’s saying No? What would it look like to trust your timing? To follow your joy?
It might feel uncomfortable at first. You might feel guilty, or even piss a few people off. But you’ll also feel powerful and peaceful. Probably a bit relieved! And over time, choosing yourself will stop feeling risky and start feeling like the most thrilling, life-giving thing you could ever do.
So, how have you been choosing yourself lately? And who have you been pissing off? Ha! Let me know in the comments below.
Ps. Want to begin your journey to a slower, more loving way of living? Sign up for the free 5 Days of Slow audio course here.
