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Growing up, I attended many schools: public, Catholic public, Catholic private and more. Despite the differences, there was one common denominator among the posters and graphics scattering the walls: the assertion that “You are enough.”
There was a particular emphasis on self-love and independence. And this, at its root, is a good thing. It is good we live in a country where we teach children to love and be kind to themselves, to raise a generation of kids who are gentle and emotionally intelligent. However, it has gone too far. We are now harming kids with these teachings.
The truth is you actually are not enough. You cannot do it on your own. You cannot complete everything you desire with a fierce independence, one we seem to be teaching the youth and that has been ingrained in us since childhood.
There is a learned behavior of mass isolation in the world right now in both adults and kids. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, about one in three adults report feeling lonely, and one in four report not having social and emotional support. We were taught independence in childhood and retained it as adults.
Humans are not meant to exist in isolation. We were not created to do everything on our own. I don’t doubt our capability to do so, but it is not the way we should live.
We ought to live in a community and raise our children in a village, love even when it’s inconvenient, help people when we would rather not and ask for help when we are struggling.
Another issue I see is using the excuse of self-care — closely related to self-love, I think — to avoid leaving your house and the inconvenient, beautiful and necessary process of encountering others.
Creator Josh Lora wrote the following in his article on Substack titled The Mainstreaming of Loserdom: “There is the issue of an individualistic culture and declining social etiquette (posts about people stating ‘I hate my coworkers and I hate small talk and I refuse to engage in any conversation outside my job’ routinely go viral, and I think that’s a failing of etiquette, sorry!) allowing people to state these opinions without shame, but it does feel like a larger societal failing that the activity people crave the most is scrolling on their phones, watching other people live their lives.”
When you excuse self-isolating behavior by calling it self-care, know it is not enough to live abundantly. It is not self-care to lie in bed watching Netflix alone every weekend. It is not setting boundaries or a more profound version of self-love to go through this big, wonderful life alone. We cannot do it alone, and I don’t understand why we keep torturing ourselves by thinking we can.
In some sense, it doesn’t even matter whether it’s romantic, sexual, platonic or familial — you have got to be around other people. You must lean on those around you to build you up. You are not enough, and what a blessing it is to allow others to pour their love into you. What a privilege it is to not be enough.
Someone much wiser than me once said in an impassioned declaration, “Why is there sadness and hate and awfulness in the world? So that you can pour your love into it.”
One of my biggest pet peeves is when people don’t ask for help when they need it. As a note, I want to say to those who may have an actual trauma response and inability to ask for help: This pet peeve does not apply to you. But inconveniencing those who love you is a step toward allowing them to know and love you better.
For example, the other day, my friend showed up at an event and about five minutes in, she looked at me and asked, “Ana, is it really obvious I’m not wearing a bra?” I answered yes, and though I saw the discomfort on her face, I didn’t want to lie to her. She said: “I think I want to run home and put one on. Will you come with me?”
The last thing I wanted to do was leave the event, but I knew by inconveniencing myself, our connection could be strengthened. Looking back, I should have taken her asking me to go with her as a compliment that reflected her trust in me.
I know she would have been perfectly capable of going home alone to change, but I’m glad she chose not to weaponize her independence against herself. I’m glad she asked me to inconvenience myself. And in that car ride to her house and back, we got the chance to speak about more intimate things we hadn’t before. Our friendship actually took a step deeper.
When I think of the times I have been the most fulfilled, it is not when I spent so much time focusing on myself and working on my self-love. The times that have brought me the greatest joy are when I looked completely outward, stopped focusing on myself and started focusing on how I could give my love to others.
It is not self-love that teaches us we are lovable; it is a complete pouring out of our goodness that reveals how good we are.
When I think back to 13-year-old me surrounded by posters, campaigns and books all about being enough, I think of how lonely I was. I think about how I was steadily taught to not ask for help, avoid leaning on others and never admit my own weakness. I think about all the times I shut down, put my walls up and closed off any love offered to me. I allowed myself to feel more pain than necessary before I realized I wasn’t enough on my own, and I needed help.
The intense self-love campaign we were raised with was well-intended, and it does deserve credit for the ways it helped some in our generation. But the statistics don’t lie: We are lonelier and self-isolate more than ever. If we don’t soon learn how to rely on and give ourselves to others, we will never truly love ourselves.
Reach Anastasia Holy at letters@collegian.com or on social media @RMCollegian.
