I finally understand the meaning behind the super-famous breakup phrase, “It’s not you, it’s me”. But this realization didn’t come in the context of a breakup; it emerged in a much deeper place within me.
I was yearning for a deep and profound conversation with someone I deeply love, but they weren’t meeting me where I needed them to be. The conversation wasn’t progressing, it wasn’t deepening, and before I allowed myself to spiral into negativity, I decided to have that profound conversation with myself instead.
“Why do I think this is happening?” I asked myself. And as if by some brilliant stroke of clarity, the answer began to unfold within me. This moment was cathartic, especially since I had been working on improving my listening skills—listening not just to others but to my intuition as well. And in this brief yet powerful inner dialogue, the thought came to me, “It’s not me, it’s them”.
I realized I was wanting—and to some degree, wrongfully expecting—someone to engage in a conversation with me that they probably hadn’t even had with themselves. Suddenly, everything became clear. There was nothing to get mad about, nothing to be upset over; there was only understanding and compassion to offer.
That wise voice, the one I now recognize as my higher self, went on to reveal how this pattern had shown up before, like with my father, for example. My father is an alcoholic and has been for as long as I can remember. I can’t say that I grew up feeling loved and supported by him. For many years, I felt sadness, anger, disappointment—these waves of negative emotions that stemmed from a belief I could never quite shake: that somehow, he didn’t love me as much as a father should love his child.
I spent decades taking it personally, believing I wasn’t enough, that I didn’t deserve love, that I was somehow different, and unable to connect. I built an entire persona around those limiting beliefs and lived my life according to them.
You can imagine the results that stemmed from such thoughts—not the best, but they were necessary. They became the catalyst for my transformation.
And then, in this simple, ordinary moment of realization, it struck me: it was never about me. It was always about him, just as it was about that person I wanted so desperately to connect with.
People can only love another to the degree that they love themselves. And how can anyone—whether it’s me, you, or whoever—take it personally, get offended, or feel angry, upset, or disappointed by someone who hasn’t learned to love themselves? How can one feel anything other than compassion for a person who struggles to love who they are?
I can see how easy it is to feel sad, just as I feel sad for the many tragedies and awful things in this world that I cannot control. It’s sad because there is a deep and profound feeling I hold for someone, but it’s not reciprocated—not because they don’t love me or aren’t interested in me, but because they literally can’t love or show interest in me when they haven’t yet learned to love or show interest in themselves.
They have so much to see, to become aware of, to accept, and to heal within themselves before they can show up for me. And so, being aware and conscious of myself, being someone who loves and cares for myself, who shows up for myself—I recognize that it’s my duty, my responsibility, my desire to show compassion for them. To hold the space for them to live their process, if they ever do. To reflect the light I allow myself to receive from the Universe, Divine Intelligence, God, Spirit—whatever name resonates—and shine it upon them with love, with absolutely zero expectation of getting anything in return.
In the end, the famous breakup phrase, “It’s not you, it’s me”, perfectly encapsulates this truth. It’s not that I cannot love you; it’s that I cannot love myself, and therefore, I cannot love you. The phrase isn’t about pushing someone away or avoiding blame; it’s a profound acknowledgment that the love we are capable of offering others is directly tied to the love we have for ourselves.
So, the next time you find yourself on the receiving end of that phrase—or in any situation where you feel that love or affection is not being reciprocated—ask yourself whether what you’re wanting from the other person is something they can even give to themselves. This might not always be apparent, as many people wear facades to mask their struggles with self-love. So don’t just ask with your mind; ask with your heart and your gut. Sometimes the truth lies deeper, and understanding this can lead to a place of compassion rather than disappointment.
Until next time continue to love yourself to the moon and back, all the time, every day. ❤️
With much love stemming from my self-love 🥰.
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