How many times does advice escape my lips that I know to ring true, that I wish so dearly for another, that I do not carry through with on my own behalf?

This is for you, my friends, my dear ones who, like me, are guilty of not following our own advice.

I get upset when my friends tell me they didn’t eat breakfast, or didn’t have time for lunch, or that their dinner was something along the lines of a protein bar. Yet when I lean on the occasional lackluster meal of a few Triscuits or a pudding cup because that’s all I can make happen, I brush it off, as if my biological make-up is different from the rest of humankind, as if I require less nutritional value.

I encourage others to get more rest and sleep all the time, to forget that one homework assignment for the time being, to just give their body what it so desperately needs to rejuvenate. Yet when I average five, four, three hours of sleep some weeks, I let it go, even though I can feel in myself that it’s probably doing some long-term damage, that our brains and bodies weren’t made for this.

My insides pang with sadness when I hear someone degrading themselves on grounds of appearance or intelligence or ability or whatever it may be, because I know in my heart that their words of self-deprecation are not true to who they were created to be. Upon hearing hurtful things internally directed, I mother-ing-ly scold others for devaluing themselves and try to bring their wonderfulness to full light. Yet I do not hold myself to the same unalienable sanctity when I call myself dumb, or apologize a million times for something out of my control, or tell myself the nasty lies my mind thinks about me in moments of the darkest darkness.

Why is that? Why are we so terrible to ourselves? Why don’t we treat ourselves like a friend, or like family?

Why don’t we treat ourselves like a loved one?

I understand that not every meal can be five stars, that college certainly entails some periodic work-until-dawn type of moments, that not every day is going to make someone feel like they are on top of the world and at the top of their heart’s contentment with themselves. I also know that people can be very strong, and I know of myself that I am capable of a lot with my God by my side. But I think there is a definite line between unavoidable and unhealthy, and there seems to be another very blurry line that we draw between what others need and what we ourselves need.

Why do we treat ourselves like we’re superhuman, when we can be nothing but beautifully, irrevocably, fragilely human?

I’m calling myself out, calling you out, calling whoever needs this out to listen to your own wisdom. Don’t ignore what your body, mind, or heart tell you. It could make all of the difference in an existence that is already so paper-thin and breakable. You deserve all of the love you willingly depart to others and keep from yourself.

One day at a time, friends. Let’s take care of ourselves the way we would hope for those we love the most.