I Killed My Own Happiness at Such a Young Age by Loving Someone More Than Myself

And now that I am older, I had to learn to love myself first. This needs to be taught to our children so that when they grow up, they place a high value on themselves. Not in a conceited way, but in a protective sense, where they don't allow the mistreatment of others. I wish I had learned this when I was young. I am just glad I know it now, and the healed version of me is able to love myself first, and then I can love others better. The right ones. Boundaries set. Nonnegotiables listed. I found my happiness again. It's within myself.

For so long, I tied my sense of worth to how much I could give — how much I could endure, how much I could prove, how much I could pour into someone else. I thought if I loved hard enough, if I stayed loyal, if I sacrificed, it would eventually be returned to me. But all I did was abandon myself, little by little, in the name of love.

I now understand that what I was calling “love” wasn’t love at all. It was a desperate attempt to earn acceptance, to fill a void, to be seen. But when you give from a place of emptiness, it will never be enough. Not for them, and especially not for you.

Looking back, I realize how young I was — not just in age, but in identity. I hadn’t even begun to discover who I was before I handed my heart over to someone who hadn’t even earned it. I made them my world and forgot to build one of my own. I neglected my dreams, silenced my voice, and dismissed my own needs because I was so afraid of losing them. But the truth is, I had already lost myself.

That kind of loss takes years to understand. It takes even longer to heal from. Because you’re not just grieving a person — you’re grieving the version of yourself you gave away. The one who didn’t know better. The one who tried so hard. The one who loved with pure intentions but didn’t yet know her own value.

And here’s what I wish someone would have told me back then: You are allowed to choose you first. Not because you're selfish, but because you're sacred. Your heart is sacred. Your peace, your body, your dreams — they are not meant to be sacrificed at the altar of someone else's comfort or validation.

Loving someone should never come at the cost of destroying yourself.

Now, I teach myself daily how to rebuild the girl I abandoned. I speak to her gently. I remind her that she did the best she could with what she knew at the time. I no longer punish her for her mistakes — I praise her for her strength. Because even in the darkest chapters, she kept going.

Healing isn’t just about getting over it — it’s about understanding why you allowed it. It's about tracing the roots of your patterns and pulling them out at the source. It's about facing the hard truths: that you didn’t love yourself enough back then, that you tolerated what you didn’t deserve, that you ignored red flags because you wanted to believe in potential over reality.

But healing also comes with empowerment. It’s realizing that the same way you handed your happiness over to someone else, you can take it back — piece by piece. Day by day.

And that’s exactly what I did.

I no longer chase after people who can’t see me. I don’t beg for reciprocity. I don’t shrink myself to fit into someone else’s broken perception of love. I honor my worth by choosing peace over chaos, truth over fantasy, and wholeness over attachment.

There’s power in setting boundaries. There’s strength in saying “no.” There’s beauty in walking away when something no longer serves you — even if it once made you feel alive. Especially then.

Because what I know now is that real love doesn’t demand you to kill yourself emotionally just to keep it alive. Real love nourishes. It adds. It heals. And it starts within.

I now love myself enough to wait for what aligns with my peace. I no longer compromise my non-negotiables just to be chosen. I no longer trade my authenticity for connection. I would rather be alone in wholeness than entangled in something that empties me.

And that is what I want the next generation — especially our daughters — to know: Your love is precious. It is not something to be thrown at people, hoping they’ll value it. You are the prize. Let them earn your access. Let them meet you at your level. Let them respect your standards or let them go.

Because true happiness does not come from being loved by someone else — it comes from finally loving yourself enough to stop settling for less than you deserve.

I killed my happiness once. I buried it under the weight of codependency, fear, and the belief that I had to be needed in order to be worthy.

But now, I protect my happiness like my life depends on it — because in many ways, it does.

And to those who are still learning to love themselves again: give yourself grace. This journey is messy and layered. You won’t get it perfect every day. But the fact that you’re trying means you’re already breaking the cycle.

Let your healed self speak life over your younger self. Let her know she is safe now. She is seen. She is enough.

And most importantly, let her know: You found your happiness again. Not in someone else — but in your own arms. In your own heart. In your own growth.

You are the love you’ve been looking for all along.