I find it hilarious that I can hype up a sad friend like I’m their own personal life coach — motivational speeches, pep talks, the whole deal. I’m basically the unofficial cheerleader for everyone I know (minus the pom-poms, though I could totally rock them). But the second my own storm rolls in? I vanish like a magician. Poof. I isolate, I withdraw, I mentally crawl under a blanket fort of doom… but unfortunately, the electric company still expects their money. Apparently, you can’t pay bills with emotional shutdowns.

Why
Why is that? Why are we so quick to turn into motivational speakers for our friends and family? We rush in with hugs, pep talks, and “you got this!” energy like we’re auditioning for a feel-good movie montage. We make sure they know they aren’t alone, help them see their mountain is more like a speed bump, and reassure them that life will eventually chill out. Now that I’m in my 30s, I finally get why I love encouraging others — because I know exactly what it’s like to feel alone. I’ve been there, thinking no one cared what I was going through. Spoiler alert: it was all in my head. Just me, lying to myself so I could throw a dramatic party for one — BYOT (Bring Your Own Tissues) — also known as the legendary pity party. 🎉

Learning something new
I had to learn to be my own cheerleader — no crowd, no halftime show, just me yelling “Go, team… me!” in the mirror. The hardest part was getting used to hearing my own voice talk back, like some awkward motivational speaker who won’t leave. Growing up, I was told that talking to yourself was a one-way ticket to “crazy town,” but then I read it’s actually a sign of intelligence — so now I’m basically a genius having deep conversations with myself in the cereal aisle. Positive breeds positive, so I’m out here breeding optimism like it’s a full-time job. If you want to know more about what to focus on (or just need permission to talk to yourself in public), check out the link below:
what-you-going-to-choose-to-focus-on/

Give yourself self a break
The question I keep accidentally asking myself (usually while brushing my teeth or staring into the fridge like it might spill life’s secrets) is: why don’t we show ourselves more love? Seriously. We’ll comfort a crying stranger online, leave a string of heart emojis like we’re part of a professional hype squad, but give ourselves a simple “you got this” in the mirror and suddenly it feels like we’re performing some weird, self-inflicted dare.
Meanwhile, we’re Olympic-level experts at believing the nonsense our brains throw at us. “You’re alone. Nobody cares. You didn’t measure up.” And what’s this gold standard we’re supposed to meet? Probably invented by some person lounging in Cheeto dust–covered pajamas, scrolling TikTok while eating ice cream straight from the carton.
Here’s the kicker: everyone else gets our compassion, our encouragement, our pep talks… but us? We get the “you’re failing” commentary on repeat. It’s ridiculous, honestly. So maybe it’s time to give ourselves the same hype we give everyone else. Because if a stranger online deserves a heart emoji, the least we can do is throw one at ourselves—preferably while eating the chocolate we totally earned.
Learning to be your own cheerleader is a survival skill these days. The moment you stop waiting for other people to hype you up, you suddenly become emotionally ripped — like you just bench-pressed your own self-esteem. And thank goodness struggles don’t last forever, because if they did, we’d all be living in one giant soap opera. I read somewhere that maybe God’s plan isn’t to remove the storm but to teach you how to dance in it — which is cute until you realize you have two left feet and it’s a thunderstorm.

Time to Go—Self-Love Doesn’t Schedule Itself
Don’t get me wrong, cheering on your friends and family is basically a full-time Olympic sport—and hey, someone has to hand out the gold medals of encouragement. But don’t forget to save some of that pep-talk energy for yourself when life decides to throw a flaming pineapple at your stress levels. We’re human, which means bad days are basically part of the job description. So go ahead, give yourself a little high-five in the mirror, even if it feels weird—it’s cheaper than therapy and slightly less messy than chocolate. This is where I leave you. Until we meet again have a blessed day.
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