Tag: self-reflection

The Beauty of Dating Yourself: A Personal Reflection

Have you ever gone to a movie theater by yourself? Bought that big bucket of popcorn, settled into your seat, and watched exactly what you wanted to see – no negotiations, no compromises? Have you ever taken yourself to your favorite restaurant, ordered your go-to dish, and simply enjoyed your own company?

I call it dating yourself. And it’s one of the most liberating things I’ve discovered in my thirties.

It all started when my bestie shared how much she loved going to theaters on her own. Something about that struck a chord in me. Her simple joy in choosing her own movie, her own time, without negotiation or compromise, inspired something in me I hadn’t realized I was missing.

My husband has always been wonderfully loving and surprising – he still is. This isn’t about lacking love in my life; it’s about discovering an additional layer of fulfillment I didn’t know I needed.

When I first tried going to a movie alone, I felt a rush of freedom I hadn’t expected. Just me, my popcorn, and exactly the story I wanted to lose myself in. The same goes for restaurants. Sitting alone at a table, ordering exactly what I’m craving, taking my time – it’s not lonely. It’s intentional. It’s caring for myself in the most direct way possible.

I used to wait for others to make my birthday special, to remember Valentine’s Day, to surprise me with thoughtful gestures. But somewhere along the way, I realized I was placing a heavy burden on the people I love – expecting them to be mind readers, to fulfill needs I hadn’t even clearly expressed.

Now? Every Valentine’s Day and every birthday, I take myself on a proper date. I plan exactly what I want to do, buy things that make me happy, celebrate who I am and who I’m becoming. It’s become my annual tradition – one I genuinely look forward to. And you know what’s beautiful about this shift? When my loved ones do surprise me – with a hug, a smile, a gift, a dinner invitation – it feels like pure joy instead of that craving or wondering within me about what they might do or give. They’ve always given out of love, but now I receive their gestures without the weight of expectation. When I do receive their loving gifts this way – already fulfilled and content – it’s pure bonus joy, free from any sense of need or demand. It makes me truly grateful for all the love I’m receiving, in a way I never was before.

I’ve learned to tell my husband exactly what would make me happy, without the guessing games. “I’d love a surprise,” I’ll say, “It could be anything.” And he delivers, every time, because there’s clarity now instead of pressure.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized how crucial it is to be comfortable with our own company – not just as we age, but throughout our lives. We need to know who we are when no one else is around. We need to enjoy our own thoughts, our own interests, our own dreams.

This isn’t about becoming isolated. It’s about building a strong foundation of self-knowledge and self-care that makes us better partners, parents, and friends. When we’re not constantly running from ourselves or depending on others to fill every emotional need, we can love more freely and authentically.

When we take responsibility for our own happiness, something beautiful happens. The people in our lives can love us without the pressure of being our sole source of joy. Their gestures become gifts instead of obligations. Their presence becomes chosen rather than needed.

And when life inevitably brings changes – when children grow up and need us less, when relationships shift, when we face the natural solitude that comes with aging – we’re ready. We’ve already built a loving relationship with the person who will be with us through it all: ourselves.

I was talking to a friend recently about how much I enjoy spending time with myself, and as I spoke, I realized how transformative this journey has been. Learning to be my own companion hasn’t just made me more independent, it’s brought me a deeper peace. Less expectation, more fulfillment. I’ve become happier because I’m not waiting for others to fill a void; I’m already whole.

When I do need something from others, I simply ask. And I’m grateful that my family is supportive of this approach. There’s clarity now instead of resentment, requests instead of demands.

This is simply my story, my way of finding peace and fulfillment. I wanted to share how this approach has changed my life, how it’s helped me love the people around me more freely, and how it’s brought me to a place of genuine happiness.

When we learn to be our own providers of joy, when we stop placing the burden of our happiness entirely on others’ shoulders, something shifts. The love we receive becomes a beautiful addition to our lives rather than a desperate need.

Dating yourself isn’t about being alone; it’s about being whole. It’s about those solo movie nights, those birthday celebrations you plan with excitement, those honest conversations where you simply ask for what you want. It’s about finding that quiet confidence that comes from truly enjoying who you are.

Sometimes the most important realizations come from the simplest conversations with friends – moments when we suddenly see how much we’ve grown, how much peace we’ve found, and how beautiful it is to just be ourselves.

The Gratitude Bowl

Liah had just turned fourteen, and nothing in her world felt right. Her drawings were the only things that made sense anymore; everything else seemed wrong. School was tough, her parents just didn’t understand, and lately, even the sunshine bothered her.

She fell into a vicious cycle: the more she complained, the more unhappy she became, the more she withdrew from others. Making friends became increasingly difficult.

It was almost summer break, and she was looking forward to visiting her grandmother. Her grandmother lived a few hours away in a quaint town. Her grandmother had a gentleness about her that Liah always found comforting.

Liah’s grandmother lived alone in a small house. Her house was simple and minimalistic. Being an avid gardener, she enjoyed growing herb plants in her kitchen. Her backyard was a beautifully tended garden – where she grew everything from roses to potatoes. She also had pet fish in a small outdoor pond. Since Liah was little, their special bond had grown through these quiet moments in the garden, watching and feeding the fish and nurturing the plants.

The first weekend of summer break arrived, and Liah eagerly packed her bags, looking forward to seeing her grandmother.  Her parents drove her through the winding country roads and as they pulled up to the familiar white house with its beautiful garden, Liah could see her grandma waiting for her. Liah ran and gave her grandma a big hug. Her parents came home and stayed that night and left early next morning.

That evening, over cups of chamomile tea and homemade cookies, Liah found herself opening up to her grandmother. They sat in the cozy kitchen, where the fading sun cast warm shadows through the window.

Her grandma listened quietly, her gentle eyes encouraging Liah to continue.

“Everything makes me so angry lately”, she confessed, staring at her tea.

“Mom asks how my day was, and I just… snap at her. Dad tries to help me with homework, and I tell him he doesn’t understand anything.”

Her grandma listened quietly.

“The worst part is”, Liah’s voice shaking slightly, “I know they are trying to help. I can see it on their faces when I yell or slam the door. But at that moment, I can’t stop myself. It’s like… something takes over, and later I feel terrible about it.”

“And then”, she continued, picking a cookie without eating it, “Mom leaves little notes in my lunchbox or Dad offers to take me out to a movie, and I feel worse because I was so mean to them. But the next time something happens, I get angry all over again.”

She looked at her grandma, with tearful eyes.

“What’s wrong with me, grandma? I am unable to make friends too.”

Her grandmother reached across the table and held Liah’s hand.

“Nothing is wrong with you, my dear. You’re fourteen, and these feelings… they are like waves sometimes. I remember those days. Everything was so intense, so overwhelming.”

“You felt this way too?”, asked Liah surprised.

“Oh yes”, her grandmother smiled softly. “And that’s why I want to share something with you… something that helped me when I was your age.”

Her grandmother got up and walked to an old wooden cabinet, pulling out a beautifully painted ceramic bowl.

“This is my gratitude bowl.”, she said, running her fingers along the rim.

“When I was your age, I went through difficult times too. My grandmother gave this to me and asked me to write at least 5 things I was grateful for – no matter how small – and put them in this bowl, and I did. My notes would be about the warmth of sunshine, seeing a dancing butterfly, the smell of freshly baked cookies or a kind word from a friend. It helped me, dear.”

Liah picked up the bowl, turning it in her hands.

“Would you like to try?”, asked her grandmother, placing some fresh paper and pen beside Liah.

“Start with just one thing today. What made you smile today?”

Slowly, Liah began to write:

  • Opening up to grandma
  • The taste of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies
  • The cute fuzzy cat I saw in the garden
  • Summer break
  • Being here at Grandma’s

As she dropped each note in the bowl, something began to shift inside her – somehow Liah felt lighter, happier. She was surprised she had a lot of things to be happy about despite feeling sad.

“I already feel better, grandma.”, Liah said with a smile and squeezed her grandma’s hand.

“I will practice this.”

Over the next few weeks, Liah found herself noticing small blessings – the scent of garden roses, a successful drawing, gardening with grandma, watching the orange fish in the pond. With each note she added, she realized something: her days weren’t as empty as she had thought. Good things had always been there – she just hadn’t been looking for them.

When it was time to leave, her grandmother insisted she take the bowl home.

“It’s yours now.”, she said with a warm smile.

Liah hugged her grandmother and promised she will continue the practice.

Liah had placed the gratitude bowl on her desk in her room. She continued to write gratitude notes every day. She began to appreciate little things around her and found there were many things she was grateful for, to feel happy for.

One evening, as her mother placed a cup of hot chocolate beside her, Liah hesitated for a moment, then picked up the gratitude bowl.

“Grandma gave this to me”, she said, smiling at her mother.

“It is helping me a lot, Mom.”

Her mother listened, intrigued, as Liah explained how the simple act of writing down little joys had changed her perspective.

To her surprise, her mother wanted to try it too. That night at dinner, her mother suggested they all share one good thing from their day. At first, it felt just words spoken out loud but soon, it became their favorite part of the evening. A quiet warmth spread their home, unspoken tensions softened, and they began to feel closer in ways they hadn’t before.  

Over time, Liah noticed a shift not just in how she felt, but in how others responded to her. She smiled more, and in turn, others smiled back. Conversations felt easier, friendships blossomed naturally, and she felt no longer trapped in the cycle of frustration. The gratitude practice that started as a simple habit had quietly reshaped her world.


Writing Down Gratitude: Why It Works

When we write down things we’re thankful for each day, it helps us in several ways:

First, it makes us pause and notice. Instead of rushing through our day focusing on what’s wrong, we take a moment to spot what’s right – maybe it’s a good meal, a kind word, or just a peaceful moment.

Second, it changes how our brain works. Just like Liah discovered, looking for good things becomes a habit. Even on difficult days, we get better at finding small positives – not to ignore problems, but to remember that good and bad can exist together.

It’s especially helpful when we’re feeling down or stressed. Reading through old gratitude notes reminds us that we’ve had good moments before and will have them again. These written reminders become powerful when our mood tries to tell us everything is wrong.

The Science Behind Gratitude Practice

When we regularly write down what we’re grateful for, our brain actually changes in several important ways:

Brain Chemistry:
– Increases dopamine and serotonin – the “feel-good” chemicals
– Reduces cortisol – the stress hormone
– Activates the hypothalamus, which regulates sleep, appetite, and mood

Neural Pathways:
– Creates new neural patterns, helping us spot positive aspects more easily
– Strengthens these pathways through repetition, making positivity more automatic
– Reduces our natural “negativity bias” (our brain’s tendency to focus on threats and problems)

Mental Health Benefits:
– Improves sleep quality by calming racing thoughts
– Reduces anxiety by shifting focus from worries to present moments
– Helps manage depression by providing evidence of good experiences
– Enhances emotional regulation – making it easier to handle stress

Research shows that consistent gratitude practice for just 21 days can:
– Improve overall mood
– Increase optimism
– Enhance decision-making abilities
– Boost problem-solving skills
– Strengthen resilience during challenges

Just like physical exercise strengthens muscles, regular gratitude practice strengthens our brain’s ability to notice and appreciate positive aspects of life. This doesn’t eliminate problems, but it helps build mental resources to handle difficulties better.

In Liah’s case, her gratitude practice didn’t change her circumstances, but it changed how she experienced them. She became more aware of the love in her life, the small joys she had overlooked, and in doing so, found a sense of peace that had felt out of reach before.