All my life I’ve been searching for something.
Growing up, through a combination of nature and nurture, I developed an inferiority complex—a void inside me that I’ve spent most of my adult life trying to fill.
As a child, I was convinced that I was fundamentally flawed in some way. I held the belief: “Something is wrong with me”. And that something “out there” that could fix it. I was never quite sure what that thing was, but it didn’t stop me from searching.
I never felt like I was enough so I thought that if I improved myself and somehow became more “enough” then I could find finally fulfilment in life.
So that’s what I did.
I developed an obsession with my own perceived flaws and tried everything I could to solve the “problem” of being me:
— How can I be smart enough?
— How can I be attractive enough?
— How can I be rich enough?
— How can I be funny enough?
— How can I be interesting enough?
I went down the self-improvement rabbit-hole. I read hundreds of books. Listened to hours of podcasts and audio-books. Watched endless YouTube videos. Saw psychiatrists, healers, and psychics. Sought out mentors and coaches. Attended a handful of personal development seminars.
A decade later, I was smarter, funnier, richer, less socially anxious, more charismatic, more attractive and more interesting than I used to be—but I still didn’t feel like I was enough.
I had all the things I thought I wanted; things I was hoping would fill the void inside—money, possessions, accomplishments, approval from others—but nothing worked.
I was in the top % of income earners in the country, worked for billion dollar companies, built products used by millions, lived in a penthouse apartment in the middle of one of the most beautiful cities in the world, developed a bunch of random skills and hobbies, dated a lot of people, had friends and family who loved me—but I still felt like I had nothing.
I worked hard at developing my external image, but my self-image was still the same, and in some cases got worse, because I rejected so many parts of myself that I deemed “unacceptable”. It often surprised people who may typically see me as competent, friendly, positive, intelligent, and attractive to learn that I saw myself in the complete opposite way.
Then the realisation hit me. What I was searching for was not an object, place, or person, it was a feeling.
No matter what I do to improve myself, I’m never going to feel like I’m enough. No matter who I have in my life, they’re never going to feel enough. No matter what I have, do, or accomplish in life, it’s never going to feel like it’s enough.
So it got me thinking, what is “enough” anyway?
Going inwards
A year and a half ago, I went to a 10 day silent meditation retreat. No talking. No phones. No reading. No eye-contact. No writing. No distractions. Just me sitting with my thoughts, in the middle of nowhere, with nothing.
When you spend time in solitude with no social contact or distractions, you’re confronted by all the uncomfortable feelings you’ve been trying to escape from your whole life: boredom, guilt, resentment, self-loathing, shame, regret, jealousy, apathy, fear, anger, loneliness.
The core tenet of meditation is to accept reality as it is, not how you think it should be. So when these feelings come up, instead of getting trying to change them, we’re taught to simply observe them and let them be.
Feelings are transient; they want to flow through you. It’s our tendency to grasp on to them or try to alter them that makes them linger and control our behaviours in the background.
For example: when we feel boredom, the instinct is to take out our phones and scroll because the feeling of boredom is so uncomfortable, we need to distract ourselves from it. But an interesting thing happens when you learn to sit with the boredom and do nothing about it; you’ll find that like all feelings, it eventually fades away.
Intentional boredom can reveal a lot about yourself.
Throughout the 120 hours in total spent in meditation, a myriad of feelings I’ve been stuffing away for years came up; feelings that mostly centred around the theme of “not being enough.”
However, this time around, instead of seeking for a solution to these feelings “out there” in the external world, I was instructed to sit with them, and deal with them internally no matter how uncomfortable they were—this turned out to be one of the most difficult and rewarding things I’ve done in my life.
Acceptance
So what does any of this have to do with self-love?
Self-love is self-acceptance.
It’s being okay with where you are, who you are, and what you are—in this exact moment. And that starts with acknowledging and feeling your feelings...until completion.
When you observe your feelings without trying to judge, analyse, or fix them, what you’re doing is accepting the feeling, and in turn, accepting yourself by demonstrating to yourself that it’s okay to feel this way.
By telling yourself that it’s okay to feel, you allow feelings to be experienced completely, and when they are, they no longer have control over you.

I’ve had many different sensory experiences, but the first time that I felt true peace was during my retreat. There was no drug in the world (and I’ve tried a lot) that could come close to what I felt within me.
Now, this isn’t a spiel on how meditation saved my life and why you should do it too. Nor am I advocating to go to a silent retreat because it’s not for everyone and mileage may vary. But I learnt a valuable lesson will stick with me for the rest of my life.
I learnt that the feeling I was chasing my whole life can NEVER be found “out there”.
Being enough is our natural state. We don’t need to try to be enough.
Love is always accessible underneath our internal blockages if we commit to the process of letting go of them.
Committing to love
Whenever you go through a transformative experience and have profound self-realisations, there’s a certain afterglow where it feels as if you’re finally healed and you’re going to stay in this state of zen forever. But then reality hits when you forget to practice what you’ve learned and go back to the “old you” once the glow wears off.
After the retreat I kept up my daily meditation practice for a few months, but then (as they warn you) life got in the way. When I stopped meditating regularly, I noticed that my old habits and thought patterns started creeping back in.
Meditation is not a drug. Neither are things like yoga or breath-work. There’s a reason they’re called practices. They’re not things you do once in a while for a fix, they’re skills that require commitment, dedication, and time to nurture.
But meditation is just one tool to practice self-love. Regardless of what tool you use, or if you don’t use any tools at all, what’s important is the commitment to love yourself.
Self-love is a daily commitment to yourself.
To love is to care
From the moment you open your eyes in the morning, every action you take can come from either one of two places: self-love or self-neglect.
Now, self-care or self-love is not just another Instagram yoga influencer meme, hippie phrase, or woo-woo, new-agey concept.
Self-love is self-care.
And that simply means to take care of yourself as you would take care of your pet, your child, or your car. It’s not about spending sprees or grand gestures, it’s about understanding your—mental, physical, spiritual and emotional needs—and catering to them on a daily basis.
How you go about doing this in the choices you make in every moment during the day will determine how you feel about yourself overall.
For example: when my body signals me to wake up in the morning, and the first thing I do is look at my phone, then I’m guaranteed to have a shitty, unproductive morning filled with anxiety. If I know this about myself and I still do it, I’m choosing to act out of neglect. On the other hand, if I know that skulling a jug of water, meditating, and journaling before I look at my phone changes the whole trajectory of my morning and day, and I actually do it, I’m choosing to act out of love.
One of my mentors once told me when I’m feeling stuck in life to ask myself the question: “What’s the most loving thing I can do right now?” And to keep doing that in every moment until you feel unstuck. Do things you love. Go to places you love. Eat things you love. Read books you love. Watch movies you love. Play games you love. Spend time with people you love.
It sounds basic, but it works.
Why practice self-love?
Because it makes you a better person to be around.
As someone who still battles with episodes of depression and bouts of self-loathing, there’s only so much heavy energy that people can handle. I’m grateful to have a network of professional help and family and friends that I can lean on during these periods, but ultimately I know that I’m responsible for my own emotions and healing.
During my episodes, I’m filled with self-doubt, negativity, and apathy. I become an energy drain on those I encounter. But when I get myself out of that state, I’m creative, hopeful, and full of optimism. I become a source of energy to everyone around me.
I often get lost in grandiose visions to help people and save the world, but as the cliché goes: you can’t save the world until you save yourself. No matter how grand your ambitions may be, you can’t truly be of service to people from a place of inner poverty.
In a world filled with fear, we gravitate towards people who are self-assured, easygoing, and positive. Everyone has their own anxieties, insecurities and hangups, and no one wants to be around people who complain all the time. Unless you’re in a high state of consciousness, it’s difficult to take on other people’s emotional burdens.
That’s why it’s our responsibility to heal ourselves. To rid ourselves of our burdens and everything that’s blocking us from feeling our own love. When we feel love inside, we have love to share.
If you do nothing else in this world, I believe that being a compassionate, kind, and loving person—to yourself—is a noble cause.
It is enough.
“By changing ourselves, we change the world. As we become more loving on the inside, healing occurs on the outside. Much like the rising of the sea level lifts all ships, so the radiance of unconditional love within a human heart lifts all of life.”
— David Hawkins
On self-love
I agree. We try to find feeling, out there, when it's often hidden within us.
I do think finding the feeling within can be a scary process where you have to confront many truths. Giving into the external is a lot easier.