What Self-Love Actually Looks Like in Real Life

Valentine’s Day has never really been a big thing for us.

Even before kids, we didn’t buy into the hype. No pressure, no expectations, no grand gestures. But we did have a tradition. We always went out for dinner.

When we were living in the Territory, the restaurant of choice was Kellers. A Swiss and Indian restaurant that somehow worked beautifully. And we had a deal. We only went on Valentine’s Day, and every year we had to try something new.

For years, we did exactly that.

Looking back now, I can see that was my first real lesson in what self-love actually looks like. Not performance. Not pressure. Just intention.

Before kids, work was everything

Before kids, work came first.

I took on a second job to support a graduate wage because that’s what you did. The more you learned, the more you worked. Staying back until seven wasn’t unusual, because after five the phones stopped ringing and you could finally get things done.

Weekends were for being tourists. Seeing all the things. Making the most of time because we had it.

Self-love didn’t have a name back then. It looked like progress. Like achievement. Like building something solid.

That Valentine’s dinner wasn’t about romance. It was about stopping long enough to sit down together and do something different on purpose.

The Territory had a way of shaping perspective

Kellers wasn’t just special because of the food.

Beat Keller was a familiar face at the Todd Mall Markets, known for his sausages. But behind that was a culinary chef who had created a restaurant full of care, skill and character.

That’s what the Territory is full of.

People from all over the world who love what they do, love where they are, and love sharing it with others. There’s a generosity to that kind of life that stays with you.

Without realising it, I was learning that self-respect often mirrors what we value in others. Craft. Effort. Intention. Quiet pride in doing good work.

Mortgages and responsibility change the tone

Once a mortgage enters the picture, priorities shift.

Every house, new or old, always has a project on the go. There’s responsibility layered into everyday decisions. Planning becomes second nature. Security starts to matter more than spontaneity.

Self-love in this stage looks like stability. Like consistency. Like doing what needs to be done even when it’s not exciting.

After kids, structure became survival

After kids, life was about structure.

Every day planned. Activities booked. Keeping active, keeping social, joining committees, still trying to hold onto a career. All while juggling school bags, schedules and the mental load that comes with it.

And somewhere in there, trying to have a shower or go to the toilet alone.

Self-love during that season wasn’t gentle. It was practical. It was getting through the day and doing it again tomorrow.

Learning to say no

Once the kids started school and we moved interstate, something shifted.

That’s when I started saying no. Not to be difficult, but to preserve my own peace. Not to live up to other people’s expectations. Not to prove anything.

I’ve never been one to prove myself to anyone else. I’m very much a take-me-as-I-am person, or leave me alone.

Saying no became an act of self-respect. A way of choosing where my energy went instead of handing it over by default.

Being comfortable alone is a skill

Being comfortable in your own company is a skill.

It means you’re less reliant on others to fill space or validate your choices. But it comes with a challenge too. If you’re used to managing everything yourself, it can be hard to know who or how to ask for help when you need it.

Self-love at this stage of life is recognising that independence and support can coexist.

What self-love looks like now

These days, self-love is quieter.

It’s boundaries that protect my time and energy.
It’s routines that fit real life, not ideal life.
It’s caring for my skin as an act of respect, not vanity.
It’s choosing intention over obligation.

It’s understanding that love doesn’t need a spotlight to be meaningful.

The takeaway

What self-love actually looks like changes as life changes.

Sometimes it looks like a special dinner once a year.
Sometimes it looks like saying no without explanation.
And sometimes it looks like remembering a small tradition that mattered more than you realised at the time.

That’s the kind of love that lasts longer than Valentine’s Day ever could.