We’ve always been told to be selfless. Help others, think of others; do good, and good will come to you. I believed that—growing up, in my teenage years, and even into early adulthood.
But here I am, almost 23, and I’m shifting my stance.
Don’t get it twisted—I’m not slipping into my villain era. I’m slipping into my selfish one.
Over the last year, I’ve drained myself in every possible way—all in the name of others. Helping, listening, providing. And I won’t regret that, no matter where those relationships stand now. I love being there for people. But what I refuse to do is lose myself in the process again. I refuse to keep pouring into others while my own cup sits empty.
And honestly? I’m tired.
Tired of helping people and facing my struggles alone.
Tired of filling and never being filled.
I always say: I wish I had someone like me.
But the truth is—I do. I am her.
I don’t need to rely on other people’s hearts, their advice, their loyalty, their so-called unwavering support. Because let’s be real—half of it is bullshit. Most people are just looking out for themselves. They’ve already figured out what I’m only just learning.
So maybe it’s time I do the same.
Maybe it’s time I focus on myself.
Maybe it’s time I stop saying “yes” to everyone else and start saying “yes” to me.
But here’s the problem: I don’t want to become them.
I want to be there. I want to listen. I want to help. But at what cost?
Do I lose me to help them?
Or do I lose them to help me?
That’s the conundrum I’ve been stuck in—one I’ve been forced to confront because of things happening in my life right now.
Being selfish isn’t a bad thing—it’s survival.
For so long, I thought being a good person meant constantly showing up for others, even when it drained me. But I’ve learned that being too selfless can become self-sabotage. If you’re always the giver, always the one pouring, eventually, you run dry. A caged butterfly can’t fly.
At the same time, being too selfish makes you empty in a different way. I don’t want to be someone who only looks out for themselves, who treats people as disposable, who gives nothing but expects everything.
The key is balance. Selfishness protects your peace. Selflessness protects your heart.
I see how people move, and I’m taking notes. Not so I can become them—but so I can learn.
I’ve learned:
- Boundaries matter. People say “no” without guilt, and I need to do the same.
- Energy is a privilege. I don’t have to give mine to people who wouldn’t do the same for me.
- Not everyone is meant to be like me. And that’s okay. Some people will never love, listen, or give the way I do. But I won’t let that make me stop being who I am.
I just have to be smarter about it. I won’t lose myself trying to fit into spaces where I’m not valued. But I won’t let the world harden me, either.
At the end of the day, I’m not telling you to go full villain era (unless necessary—then by all means, pop off). I’m just saying… match energy accordingly.
Be a giver, but don’t be a doormat. Be kind, but don’t be naïve. Love deeply, but don’t love blindly.
And most importantly? Be selfish enough to make sure you’re good, because if you’re waiting for someone else to do it, you might be waiting forever.
Now, go take yourself out, block that energy vampire, and pour into your own damn cup. You deserve it.
