I Love Me—And Here’s Why That’s Not Selfish

I Love Me—And Here’s Why That’s Not Selfish

As Patricia’s story shows, loving yourself allows you to heal, to grow, to lead, and to serve from a place of strength, not survival. It teaches you to value your voice, embrace your calling, and prepare for the life you’re meant to live.
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Have you ever stood in the mirror and struggled to say, “I love me”—without guilt, without hesitation? We’ve been taught that loving ourselves is vain, selfish, or even wrong. We’re told to put others first, to give without thinking, and to serve without stopping. But in the journey of healing, growth, and discovering your true purpose, there is one truth that transforms everything: You can’t love anyone else well until you first learn how to love yourself. This is the message that echoes powerfully in Patricia Lloyd’s true and transformative book, I Love Me: Finding Peace in the Midst. With every page, she gently reminds us that loving ourselves is not pride—it’s preparation. It’s healing. It’s obedience. And most importantly, it’s necessary.

Patricia opens her book with a clear dream—a wedding day where the bride, the central figure, is nowhere to be found. And when she is found, she isn’t dressed. Why? Because she spent so much time helping others prepare, she never stopped to prepare herself. This dream becomes the central metaphor for the entire book, teaching us that serving without self-love leads to burnout, disappointment, and lost purpose. The bride had a garment bag, but it wasn’t filled with a beautiful wedding dress—it was filled with rags. Those rags symbolized pain, brokenness, forgotten dreams, and ignored self-worth. Patricia writes, “Your beloved groom is waiting patiently for an unprepared bride.” That image hits hard because many of us are walking around spiritually, emotionally, and mentally unprepared—not because we’re lazy, but because we’ve forgotten how to love ourselves first.

One of the key chapters, “Love Your Neighbor As You Love Yourself,” confronts a powerful contradiction in modern thinking. We’re told to love others, but no one ever teaches us how to love ourselves. Patricia reminds us that the commandment doesn’t stop at “Love your neighbor.” It clearly says, “as you love yourself.” That means self-love is the starting point. You cannot give from an empty vessel. When you operate from a place of internal emptiness, your acts of love become exhausting. But when you are rooted in self-compassion, forgiveness, and peace, you naturally radiate those same things to the people around you. Patricia writes, “Developing self-compassion also means taking care of my physical health. Maintaining my health also gives me the energy and focus I need to develop true compassion towards others.” Self-care isn’t selfish—it’s strategic. And self-love isn’t arrogance—it’s alignment with how God sees you.

Throughout the book, Patricia shares her struggles with procrastination, inconsistency, and the pain of not feeling “ready” for her calling. She didn’t shy away from hard truths. She had to confront old wounds, recognize hidden rags, and acknowledge when she was helping others to avoid facing herself. “I had become a professional recipient of knowledge,” she writes, “hoarding my gifts and talents… I sat on the sidelines, waiting for someone to notice me.” That raw honesty is what makes this book connect greatly. We’ve all done it—ignored our calling, avoided healing, or silenced our own voice out of fear or past rejection. But Patricia’s transformation begins the moment she realizes that God isn’t asking for a perfect bride—He’s asking for a prepared one. That preparation starts with self-love.

This book is greatly spiritual, but not in a way that feels distant or out of reach. It shows how daily self-love becomes an act of worship. It’s waking up and choosing to rest in grace rather than hustle in fear. It’s letting God take your rags and turn them into a radiant quilt of healing, compassion, and purpose. The idea of the quilt runs throughout the book and illustrates this beautifully. Patricia tells how she took old scraps of fabric—rags—and stitched them into beautiful quilts for her children. Those quilts represent life stories, sewn with pain, but transformed into purpose. “Every piece on that quilt tells my life story,” she says. “Every abuse—every hurt—it’s my story—it’s His glory!”

From the answers she gave in her article questionnaire, Patricia Lloyd’s message is clear: Life is a journey. Discovering your purpose matters. Pain is not your identity—it’s preparation. She wants readers to understand that “instead of focusing on the pain we go through in life, we should think of it like the process of getting better and better.” Her book isn’t just about feeling good—it’s about doing the inner work to become who God created you to be. The final chapter, “I Love Me,” isn’t a casual affirmation—it’s a spiritual declaration. After all the healing, all the discovery, and all the surrender, Patricia finally declares, “With all of that, how could I not Love Myself? I Love Me.” This is the turning point every reader should aim for—not as a conclusion, but as a beginning. Loving yourself isn’t a detour from purpose—it’s the doorway to it. As Patricia’s story shows, loving yourself allows you to heal, to grow, to lead, and to serve from a place of strength, not survival. It teaches you to value your voice, embrace your calling, and prepare for the life you’re meant to live.