“But what if I fail? What if I disappoint you and everyone? What if I’m not useful for anything?” I blinked back tears as I looked at my sister, struggling to breathe under the crushing weight of my many perceived inadequacies. My heart was in my throat because this was the one thing that plagued me: the fear that I was never going to be enough for anybody. I braced myself for the worst, but nothing could have prepared me for my sister’s response. “You’re useful for being my sister,” she said simply. “I love you for being my sister.”
We’ve all heard the popular maxim: “You have to love yourself before you can love someone else.” Relationship experts everywhere love to reiterate that loving yourself is the best foundation for building romantic relationships. I agree with that, but I think we’re all looking at this through a narrow lens. Loving yourself and loving other people aren’t two separate achievements that need to be completed one before the other. Rather, they are inextricably linked. Our lives are all tangled up together. You learn to love others when you love yourself, sure, but you also learn to love yourself when you love others. And I’m not necessarily talking about romantic love here.
Self-Worth Under Capitalism
We live in a capitalist society that views us merely as labour, a factor of production, a means to an end. Most times, we unconsciously internalize this and start tying our self-worth and existence to what we can do. We exist to work, and we work to exist. Eventually, we’ll begin to hinge our self-love on how productive we can be. We start to fear being “useless”. Men are especially likely to fall into this trap because society tells them they must provide labour or capital.
The most effective way I’ve found to avoid this cognitive trap is by relying on the unconditional love of others, like our parents, friends, or siblings. The people who tell us, “You’re useful for being mine. I love you for being mine.” We need the love of these people to remind ourselves that we’re valuable just for existing, in a society that measures value by per capita income.
The Lie of Western Independence
Why do I bring all of this up? In all honesty, I’ll admit there’s truth to the saying, “Love yourself before you love someone else.” After all, it’s just a way of saying you need to take care of yourself to have the emotional bandwidth required for caring for someone else. But I bring this up to highlight a broader issue—the pervasive Western obsession with the Self.
René Descartes’ grand proclamation of the indisputable self—”I think, therefore I am”—has played an instrumental role in the development of staunch individualism in the West. Descartes believed that because the senses can be fooled, perception was not a reliable indicator of what was real. However, according to him, you could be absolutely, 100% certain that you think, and that must mean you exist.
This self-contained, self-determined idea of identity is not necessarily shared by other cultures, though. The South African Ubuntu philosophy says, “I am because you are,” centring community when it comes to identity. Historically, most African cultures were also collectivist, relying on interdependence. But, with globalization, the idea of the Western Self is rapidly spreading to Africans.
This idea fuels the “love yourself first” ideology or the suggestion that self-love is an individual-only endeavour. Individualism paints love as a transactional process—you have to have it (for yourself) before you can give it (to someone else). In a collectivist culture, however, love is spun like a web connecting several people. Loving others is primary, with self-love arising as a result of internalizing the love others have for you.
The Value of Interdependence
No human is truly, wholly independent. We all need some form of dependence on others to succeed. And sometimes, when it’s hard to love yourself, we need the love of others to show us that we’re worthy just by existing. There is no shame in needing someone to hold your hand. Loving others will never be a substitute for self-love, but it can be a catalyst. As the poet Nayo Jones said, “Love will not heal me, but it will hold my hand if I ever learn to heal myself… I love you, enough to want to love myself too.”
Conclusion
In a world that emphasizes individualism and self-sufficiency, it’s easy to buy into the notion that self-love must be achieved alone. But the truth is, love is a shared experience, woven into the connections we build with others. My sister’s words from the anecdote at the beginning have been seared into my memory, there for me to remember whenever I feel inadequate. I use her words, and the support of those around me, to build unconditional love for myself. In the end, self-love and loving others aren’t separate endeavours; they’re two sides of the same coin, each nurturing the other in a cycle that makes us all more human.
Did you like this? Check out other posts on love here.
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