I saw a video today by Ryan Primer that broke my heart and reminded me of something beautiful, both at the same time.
He said, ‘Name three people you love.’
I did it instantly. It wasn’t hard to fill those three spaces with the names of people I cherish most in this world.
But then he said something else, and I immediately understood. My whole perspective shifted because it was exactly what I needed to hear. He said, ‘Hey, you missed someone.’
My name should have been the first on that list. Yet I didn’t even think of it.
Why is it that when we list the people we love, we automatically look outward? We think of everyone around us—the people we know, the ones we share our time with. But to include our own name on that list feels radical, almost transgressive. It’s often something we only realise when someone else points it out.
I’m moving into an era where I acknowledge the love I have for myself—or at least the love I’m fostering each day. I’m stepping into uncomfortable territory, and what feels most urgent now isn’t avoiding the discomfort, but sitting with it. Embracing the cringe of thinking, ‘I need to love myself.’
I’m not just saying these words for encouragement or to evoke an emotional response. I genuinely recognise that my name has to be at the top of my list. Your name needs to be at the top of yours.
This isn’t about proclaiming ourselves more important than others. It’s far more nuanced than that. Others become important to us precisely because we’ve placed value on being important to ourselves. That internal valuation—whatever it looks like for each of us—becomes the baseline. The foundation. The measuring stick by which all other love is calibrated.
When we love ourselves first, we’re not diminishing our capacity to love others. We’re expanding it. We’re teaching ourselves what it means to be held, to be cherished, to be seen—so that we can offer that same depth of care outward.
So today, I’m rewriting my list. And this time, my name comes first.
Not because I matter more than the people I love, but because I’ve finally understood: I matter just as much.
