Morning broke in a quiet blaze of gold. Along the still shore, Allie walked beside Noah, while the sea exhaled a gentle breath that seemed borrowed from the horizon’s calm.
As they walked, Allie suddenly turned to him, her voice soft but curious, and asked, “Noah, tell me… what is love?”
Noah’s steps slowed until he was almost standing still. He looked at Allie, his eyes warm, his voice lowered to a near whisper.
“Love, Allie, is not just a feeling,” he said softly, pausing as though weighing each word. “It is a choice—a discipline. It is the will to grow for the sake of another.”
He reached down, brushing his fingers lightly against the sand, then pointed toward a tree at the edge of the shore.
“That’s why self-love matters,” he said. “It’s like roots beneath a tree—unseen, yet holding everything upright.”
His voice trembled slightly, not from doubt but from the depth of what he carried inside. “To love yourself is to face the truth, to endure discomfort, to become whole,” he went on.
Finally, he turned fully to her, his gaze steady, his tone tender, and said, “And only then, can love be given honestly.”
The words hung between them, intimate as a secret, while the sea breathe softly around their silence.
They walked on. The sea shimmered like a vast mirror.
By evening, the rhythm shifted. The hush of the sea gave way to the glitter of chandeliers, the city glowing beneath like a jeweled tapestry.
Allie now sat across from Lon at a candlelit table atop a five-star hotel. The clink of glasses and soft music filled the air, the ambience ornate and dazzling. Lon exuded confidence, his tailored suit and polished smile fitting the grandeur of the place.
As the waiter set down the main course, Allie leaned forward, her eyes searching, and asked, “Lon, tell me… what is love?”
Lon smiled, his tone smooth and assured, his words flowing like the wine in their glasses.
“Love, Allie, is not just a feeling,” he said, pausing to let the words settle between them. “It is self-esteem—the pride of knowing your worth, the joy of being admired.”
He gestured lightly toward the window, where the city lights shimmered like scattered jewels. “That’s why self-esteem matters,” he said. “It’s like those lights—brilliant, visible, proof that you stand tall.”
His smile widened, his voice warm but insistent.
“To love is to feel good about yourself, to share that glow with another,” he asserted. “And only then, can love be given with confidence.”
The ambience swelled around them—the glow of candles, the hush of conversations, the elegance of crystal glasses catching the light. Yet beneath the surface, the evening carried a subtle tension, as if the glitter might fade once the music stopped.
The Quiet Conflict: Self-Love vs. Self-Esteem
Between her two suitors’ reflections—Noah’s mirror of truth and Lon’s mirror of admiration—Allie carried a question into the heart of February.
Every Valentine’s Day, the world turned red. Roses bloom, chocolates pile high, and love songs—comic, romantic, nostalgic—float through the air. One lyric lingers across generations: learning to love yourself is the greatest love of all.
Yet beneath the sweetness lies a deeper tension: when we say love yourself, do we mean self-love or self-esteem?
They sound alike, but they are not the same. Dr. M. Scott Peck of The Road Less Traveled fame reminds us: self-love is always healthy; self-esteem can mislead. Confuse the two, and we may be polishing illusions instead of embracing truth.
Perhaps the boldest act this Valentine’s is not buying flowers, but standing before the mirror—knowing ourselves honestly, loving ourselves rightly, and preparing to love others with humility, the quiet oil that keeps love moving without friction.
Self-love accepts the reflection even when flawed. It says, “I failed, yet I remain worthy.” It builds resilience, inviting growth through weakness.
Self-esteem often demands perfection. It whispers, “I must feel flawless.” It can become a mask—polished, admired, yet fragile beneath. When the mask cracks, pride collapses.
This tension extends beyond the personal into the cultural. In an age of likes, filters, applause, and endless validation, self-esteem is constantly fed yet never satisfied. It rises with praise, falls with silence. Self-love, by contrast, is countercultural. It embraces imperfection, anchors dignity, and frees love from performance.
Thus, the dilemma is not semantic but existential: truth or illusion, mirror or mask.
Why Self-Love Matters More
Self-love is the soil where every other love grows. Without it, affection becomes dependency, esteem becomes vanity, and identity becomes performance.
Wisdom across ages converges here.
The order is unmistakable: truth before love, self before others—not in selfishness, but in foundation.
The mystic voice of The Cloud of Unknowing deepens it: humility is true self-knowledge. Humility keeps the mirror clear, the heart grounded, the journey gentle.
Five Quiet Practices of Self-Love
This Valentine’s, let spectacle fade. Choose substance.
- Write yourself a love letter—ink resilience, not perfection.
- Take yourself on a quiet date—discover the peace of your own company.
- Care for body and spirit—breathe, stretch, let strength come back.
- Learn something new—growth is love in motion.
- Pause without guilt—rest is rebellion in a restless world.
Each act is a ripple. Love turned inward becomes a tide, flowing outward with honesty, patience, and grace.
Self-Love, Pinoy-Style
In Pinoy life, love has always been communal—woven into family tables, fiestas, and timeless harana beneath open window. It is a love expressed not in isolation, but in chorus, where affection becomes a shared melody.
Long ago and far away, in the hush of rolling campus mornings, when joggers traced the paths of dawn, I remember our trio—Tony, Gel, and I—blending voices together. We roused birthday celebrants from sleep with harana at daybreak, and a whispered love songs beneath the dorm windows of our crushes (ahem)—giggling and longing mingling with the cool air.
Top MSU photo: View of The Sleeping Lady mountain range and Lake Lanao from the golf course; Left: Princess Lawanen girls' dormitory; Right: Boys dormmates in the 70s in front of the Cafeteria (Harana Trio: Tony-leftmost, Gel-rightmost, me-third from right)
From “harana” to hashtags, the form evolves, yet the heartbeat endures. In a world heavy with pressures—economic, cultural, political—self-love becomes quiet resistance. A gentle insistence: I matter, even when unseen.
Beyond Valentine’s: The Mirror Remains
Valentine’s Day fades. Roses wilt, chocolates melt, applause softens into silence. Yet the mirror hangs on—waiting each morning with the same gentle question: will you choose the mask, or the truth?
Perhaps Allie understood this long after the lights had dimmed. Noah had shown her the mirror of quiet truth—love rooted in honesty, humility, and growth. Lon had shown her the mirror of brilliance—love shining in admiration, yet trembling beneath the need to be seen and praised.
Between the two reflections, Allie discovered something deeper: love that lasts did not come from the glitter outside, but from the stillness within.
So, it is with us.
Beyond Valentine’s, choose self-love—the courage to regard yourself as worthy even when imperfect. Let humility be the oil that keeps the heart turning gently toward others. For when love is rooted in truth, it no longer performs—it overflows.
The Greatest Valentine’s Gift
Whether alone, with someone, or somewhere in between, the truest Valentine’s gift is simple and quiet: to stand before the mirror, embrace the face you see—not because it’s flawless, but because it’s yours—and let love begin there—steady, humble, real.
And perhaps, just once, with no audience but your own soul, sing softly:
“Learning to love yourself is the greatest love of all.”
Happy Valentine’s Everyone!
Content & editing put together in collaboration with Bing Microsoft AI-powered Co-pilot & ChatGPT
Head photo courtesy of ChatGPT image creator & Vecteezy; art design by Canva
Still photos courtesy of Freepik, Pngtree, Vecteezy, Center for Action and Contemplation, Dreamstime.com, MSU photo album, & FreePixel.com
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