The Day I Chose Myself First

By mariam Mariam Empire

A Journey Back to My Own Heart



There comes a day in every person’s life when the noise around them becomes too loud  when the world’s expectations, people’s opinions, and the pressure to be everything to everyone feels suffocating.

For me, that day became my turning point…

The day I chose myself first.



The Before: Living for Everyone But Me



For the longest time, I measured my worth based on how well I served others.

If someone needed help, I was there.

If someone hurt me, I forgave sometimes too quickly.

If someone pulled away, I chased, thinking I wasn’t enough.


I was present for everyone but myself.

I kept giving even when my hands were empty.

I kept pouring from a cup that had already run dry.


Deep down, I feared that choosing myself would mean disappointing others.

So I stayed in situations that drained me friendships that broke me piece by piece, relationships that made me question my value, environments that suffocated my spirit.


I thought loyalty meant staying, even when staying hurt.

But I was wrong .




The Breaking Point



You don’t realize how far you’ve drifted from yourself until you look in the mirror and barely recognize the reflection.


I remember waking up one day, feeling like my heart weighed a thousand kilograms.

I wasn’t sleeping well.

I wasn’t smiling genuinely.

I was just… surviving.


I had become too comfortable in chaos.

Too familiar with pain.

Too used to shrinking myself to make others comfortable.


The version of me that once dreamed boldly, laughed loudly, and loved freely was fading.

And suddenly…

I knew I was losing the most important person in my life .



The Turning Point



Healing doesn’t usually come with fireworks.

It was a quiet decision  a whisper inside me that said:


“Enough. Choose yourself.”


I stopped explaining myself to people committed to misunderstanding me.

I stopped forcing connections that no longer felt genuine.

I walked away from people who only loved the idea of me, not the reality of me.


It was painful.

Liberation always is.


But I felt lighter.

With every boundary I set…

With every moment I prioritized my peace…

I felt myself returning home.



The Rebirth: Learning to Stay With Myself



Choosing myself wasn’t about selfishness.

It was about survival.


I learned to take time for myself  to sit with my thoughts, even the uncomfortable ones.

I learned to forgive myself for giving too much.

I learned to celebrate the small wins  even waking up on days my heart felt heavy.


I began to show up for myself the way I showed up for others.

With patience.

With kindness.

With love.


I nurtured my dreams like delicate seeds.

I protected my peace like a sacred garden.


And slowly…

I bloomed.





What Choosing Myself Taught Me



  • Not everyone deserves access to me.
  • Love without boundaries is self-destruction.
  • Silence is an answer.
  • Letting go isn’t losing  it’s creating space for better.
  • I am allowed to rest, to heal, to rebuild.



Most importantly:

I am enough.

I always was.



A Message to You



If you’re reading this and you feel tired…

If you’re the one who always gives…

If you’re afraid that choosing yourself will make you “selfish”…


Let me tell you something:

You deserve the same love you keep giving to others.


You don’t have to burn yourself to keep others warm.

The world won’t fall apart if you rest.

The right people will embrace your boundaries  not punish you for them.


Life is too short to live for everyone except yourself.

Choose yourself  not once, not twice, but every single day.



Final Thoughts



The day I chose myself wasn’t the end 

It was the beginning.


The beginning of peace.

The beginning of self-respect.

The beginning of a deeper, more honest love story 

The love I found within.


And if I could go back and speak to the version of me who was afraid to put herself first,

I would whisper:

“Do it anyway. You’re worth it.”


Because choosing yourself is not selfish.

It is the greatest form of self-love.








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