Healing the Need to Hurt Myself to Feel Worthy
For a long time, I thought love had to be earned.
I thought if I was skinny enough, kind enough, quiet enough, perfect enough…
then maybe someone would choose me.
Then maybe I’d finally feel worthy of attention, affection, or even basic care.
So I hurt myself.
I cut my skin to release pain I didn’t know how to express.
I restricted food and starved to feel in control.
I binged and purged to punish myself for existing.
I destroyed friendships before people could leave me first.
I abused medication trying to disappear quietly.
I hated myself so loudly in my mind that love couldn’t get through even if it tried.
Because somewhere deep inside, I believed:
If it hurts, it must mean I’m growing.
If it costs me everything, it must be real.
If I suffer enough, maybe I’ll finally be lovable.
But that wasn’t love.
That was trauma in a mask.
The Lie of Painful Love
We are often taught that love is something you prove by sacrifice.
That you have to bleed to be chosen.
That suffering is the price of being seen.
But love that demands you abandon yourself is not love.
Love that only shows up when you’re performing, pleasing, or punishing yourself is not love.
Love that makes you shrink, silence, or shame yourself to feel safe… is not love.
It’s fear.
It’s unhealed pain.
It’s a legacy of survival patterns that once protected us—but are now choking us.
The Truth I’m Learning
Real love doesn’t demand I harm myself.
Love doesn’t hide behind self-destruction.
Love doesn’t whisper in your ear that you’re only worthy when you’re perfect.
Love doesn’t feed on pain—it breathes in freedom.
That kind of love starts within me.
I no longer need to:
Withhold food from myself to feel control.
Hurt my body to feel release.
Push people away to feel safe.
Numb out my emotions with pills or punishment.
Earn rest, care, or softness through suffering.
I don’t have to prove my worth through pain.
I never did.
A New Kind of Love
The love I’m learning now feels like:
Nourishing my body instead of punishing it.
Letting my scars remind me not of shame—but of how far I’ve come.
Building friendships I don’t feel the need to sabotage.
Resting without guilt.
Speaking honestly, even if my voice shakes.
Softening toward myself.
Choosing peace over punishment.
Choosing me—with love, not fear.
Because love built on self-punishment isn’t love.
It’s fear of being unlovable.
And I’m not afraid of that anymore.
Final Words to My Heart
I forgive myself for the ways I tried to survive.
I forgive the younger me who didn’t know how else to cope.
I forgive the girl who cut, starved, and numbed her way through the pain.
I release the belief that love has to hurt to be real.
I am lovable—simply because I exist.
I build love on freedom, not fear.
I love me, even now. Especially now.
