Overdrawn at the Well-Being Account

Somehow, I've become the guy a number of people turn to for advice on relationships and life. In some ways I'm a strange choice—I haven't actually been in very many relationships, after all—but nevertheless I'm a good choice; I pay careful attention to how people live and relate to one another, I empathize with people's pain and joy, I think carefully about what I see and feel, and I can explain things pretty well.

One piece of advice I give again and again is, "Take care of yourself!"

So many of the people I talk to tend to put other people (or other things)—whether a family member, a significant other, an organization, or an ideal—so far ahead of themselves that they neglect their own needs. I caution and counsel these individuals to put themselves in the equation; maybe not first, but high enough on the priority list that they don't neglect their own needs.

I don't insist they put themselves first because I understand what it means to love someone or something. I know that love sometimes demands we put another's needs ahead of our own. And sometimes—like when a loved one's life is in danger or when choosing between a child's legitimate needs and a parent's reasonable wants—we can and should be prepared to make sacrifices.

What we shouldn't do (but often do) is put another person's (or organization's) every need ahead of our any need. It's like a household budget: we should prioritize so that all needful things are taken care of before we spend emotional capital on things that aren't vital.

The challenge is putting our own needs in the "needful things" category. When we love someone (or something), we tend to see our own needs as luxuries... and they aren't. Our emotional investment in who (or what) we love is drawn from a "well-being account", and if we draw it down without making deposits, sooner or later the account runs dry.

It's actually really good advice, isn't it?

The irony is that it's advice I've generally failed to apply to myself. For whatever reason (probably relating at least a little to poor self-esteem), I've felt that it was only right that I put myself dead last: after family, after loved ones, after friends, after students, after institutions, after programs, after everything.

Eff that.

It just occurred to me that there's a bit of a vicious circle—a positive feedback loop—in this. By putting myself last, I reinforced the feeling that I belonged last, which made it easier to put myself last, which reinforced my sense that that's where I belonged, which reinforced the habit of putting myself last... ad infinitum.

Eff that.

I am done putting myself after everyone and everything else. In fact, I am ready to assert that sometimes, I should put myself first; ahead of everyone and everything else. Not always, but often.

Eff always being a good sport. Eff being only or mostly a giver. Eff doing what others want when it isn't what I want. Eff all that.

If I'm ever going to persuade myself that I am as worthy as I (intellectually) believe, I need to treat myself well. I need to stop doing things just to please others and start doing things to please myself. If I'm ever going to believe in my heart that I deserve the good stuff, I need to begin by giving myself the good stuff I've got.

I need to make some deposits in the well-being account, and stop writing so many checks drawn from it.

Maybe that's selfish. And maybe that's okay.