Valentine’s Day Is Also About Loving Yourself.
- Santina Wheat
- 3 minutes ago
- 4 min read
Valentine’s Day is coming up, and wherever you look, there are reminders about love—flowers, cards, romantic dinners, thoughtful gestures. The message is loud and clear: show someone else how much you care.
But for many people—especially those in demanding careers, caregiving roles, or leadership positions—Valentine’s Day can feel complicated. It can bring up pressure, comparison, or a quiet sense of exhaustion. Another holiday that seems to require energy you’re not sure you have.
And for some, it’s not about romantic relationships at all. It’s about how much you’re giving, how thinly stretched you feel, and how rarely you pause to ask what you might need.
A few years ago, Valentine’s Day showed up in my life in a way that was small, imperfect, and unexpectedly meaningful.
At the time, my children were at an age where Valentine’s Day cards for classmates were no longer automatic. My oldest daughter had firmly decided she was “too old” for them. My youngest was undecided—and then, at the very last minute, decided she did want to participate.
So one evening, after picking her up from dance, we made an impromptu stop at a local pharmacy. We also needed to pick up medication, so I sent her down the Valentine’s aisle while I went to the pharmacy counter.
If you’ve ever shopped for Valentine’s cards the night before, you know exactly what we found: mostly empty shelves, mismatched boxes, options that were…fine. Nothing special. Nothing perfect.
A few minutes later, she appeared next to me, crying.
Nothing was good enough.
I tried to respond calmly, explaining that this was what we had. She could choose one of these, or we could skip Valentines this year. Either option was okay.
That reasoning didn’t land.
There was a meltdown—disappointment, fatigue, big emotions after a long day. Eventually, though, she paused. She looked at the options again and made a decision.
She chose a box that wasn’t quite right and said she would “make them better.”
When we got home, she got to work.
She bedazzled those Valentines. She added sparkle and stickers. She personalized each one. She made them unique—not just for her classmates, but for her sister, my husband, and for me.
And then she made one more.
She made one for herself.
She wrote her own name on it.
The card already had a message printed on it: You are magical.
And she didn’t hesitate. She didn’t laugh it off. She didn’t question whether it was appropriate. She didn’t worry about how it looked.
She simply believed it.
One of the most remarkable things about my youngest child is her ability to encourage others—and herself. Even when things don’t go as planned. Even when she’s disappointed. Even when she’s had a hard day. She holds onto a sense of worth that isn’t dependent on external validation.
Watching her that night, I realized how many of us lose that ability as adults.
Somewhere along the way, self-encouragement starts to feel awkward or indulgent. Self-compassion feels uncomfortable. We become excellent at noticing what we should do better and terrible at acknowledging what we’re already doing well.
For high-achieving professionals—especially in healthcare—this pattern is often reinforced. We’re trained to prioritize others. We’re rewarded for self-sacrifice. We internalize the belief that being “good” means being endlessly available, resilient without rest, and capable without limits.
Over time, that belief comes at a cost.
It looks like chronic exhaustion.It looks like irritability that spills over at home.It looks like resentment toward work you once loved.It looks like feeling disconnected from yourself.
And often, it looks like showing extraordinary compassion to everyone else while offering yourself very little.
So this Valentine’s Day, I want to invite you to broaden the definition of love.
Love isn’t only about romance or relationships. It’s not just what you give to your partner, your children, your patients, your learners, or your team. Love is also how you treat yourself when things are hard. When you’re overwhelmed. When you’re doing the best you can with limited time, energy, and support.
Self-love doesn’t have to be flashy. It doesn’t require a perfectly curated morning routine or a long list of self-care tasks. Often, it shows up in quieter, more uncomfortable ways.
One of the most important—and most challenging—ways to show yourself love is by holding boundaries.
Boundaries are not about being selfish or disengaged. They’re about recognizing that your energy is finite and that protecting it allows you to show up more fully where it matters most.
Boundaries sound like:
“I don’t have capacity for that right now.”
“This is the time I have available.”
“I need to think about that before saying yes.”
“That expectation isn’t sustainable for me.”
“I need rest, not productivity.”
For many people, especially those in caregiving professions, boundaries feel deeply uncomfortable. They can trigger guilt, fear of disappointing others, or worry about being perceived as difficult or uncommitted.
But constantly abandoning yourself is not sustainable. And over time, it erodes not only your well-being but also your sense of purpose and connection to your work.
Holding boundaries is an act of self-respect. It’s a way of saying, I matter too. It’s how you interrupt burnout before it becomes inevitable. It’s how you model healthier expectations for those around you—your colleagues, your learners, and even your children.
My daughter didn’t wait for permission to include herself in her Valentines. She didn’t question whether she had earned encouragement. She didn’t apologize for believing something kind about herself.
She simply knew she deserved it.
Many of us could learn from that.
So, if this Valentine’s Day has you realizing how rarely you choose yourself, this might be your moment to start.
Boundaries aren’t about becoming rigid or saying no to everything—they’re about learning how to say yes to yourself without guilt. And like any skill, they get easier with practice.
My 7-Day Boundary Challenge is designed for people in demanding careers who are tired of over giving and ready to protect their time, energy, and well-being. For seven days, you’ll get short, practical prompts to help you notice where your boundaries are leaking—and how to gently reinforce them.
No perfection required. Just willingness.
This Valentine’s Day, alongside whatever love you offer to others, I hope you find one small way to offer some to yourself.
Maybe it’s setting a boundary. Maybe it’s resting without guilt. Maybe it’s joining a challenge that helps you practice showing up for yourself more consistently.
Write your own name on the card.
You are magical, too. 💖