Know your worth

Table for One? Yes, Please.

There’s something deeply empowering about saying, "Table for one, please." It’s more than just a statement; it’s an act of self-love and independence. Tonight, I’m treating myself, and honestly, it feels amazing. Of course, as someone who’s at least a bit of an extrovert, it was unlikely I’ll spend the entire evening alone. People often gravitate towards you, especially when you shine with confidence. Still, there’s something amusing about how people react to a woman dining solo, enjoying her own company.

But this isn’t just about dinner. This is about knowing my worth—something I worked incredibly hard to discover. I’ve learned to set boundaries, to say no when necessary, and to let go of people who don’t respect my space. I learned to be with myself, at dinner, in a restaurant or even in a completely foreign country.
I don’t chase; I attract. I’ve repeated this mantra for over a year now, but the truth is, I wasn’t always living it. I used to forgive the guy who took weeks to reply. I’d take people back who had already let me go, just because I thought I had to.

Why? Because this is what I was taught. “Be happy I chose you, because no one else would.” But in the past few months, I’ve learned something crucial: I choose myself. And let me tell you, that feeling is liberating. No longer do I let someone else’s feelings dictate my value. My worth comes from me now, and that’s a hard-earned truth.

I’ve written about self-love rituals before, but looking back, I often didn’t mean it. I was going through the motions. I’d say, “I love myself, I honor myself,” but deep down, I wasn’t living those words. I used exercise as an escape instead of a way of life. I punished myself by quitting smoking out of frustration rather than out of care for my health. Binge eating became a way to silence my emotions instead of addressing them head-on. And anxiety? It ruled me for far too long. Of course, my soul didn’t believe me when I said I loved myself—I was showing it the exact opposite.

The thing about trauma is it teaches you to accept breadcrumbs as a form of love. I know this firsthand, having experienced gaslighting and love bombing. But healing has taught me something different: I deserve someone who treats me like I’m too important to lose. And for the first time, I’m embracing that truth. Because this time, I am treating myself as I am too important to lose.

It’s one thing to feel overwhelmed by emotions, and another to internalize that your worth isn’t determined by how others treat you. If someone doesn’t choose me, it’s not because I’m lacking; it’s because they’re struggling with their own fears and commitments.

The journey to self-worth isn’t a straight line. It’s messy, full of setbacks and breakthroughs, but every twist and turn has shaped me into the person I am today. It’s in those quiet moments, sitting alone at a table, where I’ve realized the power of being comfortable in my own skin. It’s not about filling a void anymore—it’s about enjoying my own presence and finding peace within myself.

I’ve also learned that saying no isn’t a rejection of others—it’s a declaration of my value. When I turn down something that doesn’t align with my standards, I’m reinforcing to myself that I deserve more, and that’s okay. And when I let go of people who don’t serve my growth, it’s not out of bitterness—it’s out of love for myself and the space I’m creating for better connections.

It’s the little victories now that excite me—the times I catch myself smiling just because I’m content, the moments when I set a boundary without hesitation, the days when I look in the mirror and feel proud of the person staring back at me. It’s an ongoing journey, but one where I’m no longer rushing to the destination. Instead, I’m savouring every step, every lesson, every moment of this life.

I used to freeze when my hand touched the doorknob, anxiety gripping me so tightly that even stepping outside felt impossible. I’d have to play “Unstoppable” by Sia on repeat just to have the strength to go out for five minutes. But look at me now—sipping an Aperol at the seaside, listening to good music, and engaging in random conversations with strangers. It’s a reminder that growth is real, that change is possible.

You can grow. You can let go. And yes, you can make it. Not every day will be easy, but on those tough days, remember these good moments. Remember when you made it through, and trust that you can do it all over again.

Trauma is chaotic. PTSD can make you wonder if you'll ever feel “normal” again. But here’s the thing: that version of normal you once knew may not exist any more—and that’s okay. What exists now is a deeper connection to yourself, gained through the inner work of healing and letting go of the past.

No, we didn’t choose the trauma, but we do get to choose healing. And that, my dears, is something truly worth living for.

So tonight, as I sit at this table for one, I celebrate myself. Not just because I deserve it, but because I’ve earned it. And that, to me, is more fulfilling than any company could ever be.

Love, 🌜