I Know I Am Lovable... And Yet

I know I am loved.

I know I am lovable.

And yet, so often, I cannot feel it in my body.

My mind can hold the thought I am enough, but my body sometimes can’t feel it. Instead, the familiar “not enough” narrative arrives:

I haven’t worked hard enough.

I haven’t given enough.

I’m not smart enough.

I don’t have enough.

A few months ago, this pattern resurfaced again. And rather than judging myself, it felt like an invitation – to look more closely at self-worth and self-esteem through a nervous system–first lens.

Because living nervous system-first doesn’t mean these challenges disappear. It doesn’t mean we never wobble or doubt ourselves. It means that when the wobble arrives, we recognise it for what it is: a shift in state. A call from the body. An opportunity to grow.

The Old Pattern: “I am not worth spending money on”

A while ago, I noticed just how hard it was for me to spend money on myself.

I would look at my bank account and think:

I can’t spend money on mental health support.

Massages are a luxury.

Pampering myself is vanity.

Winter clothes are too expensive.

I could find endless reasons why I wasn’t worthy of that care.

Then, in one week, the same message appeared in three different places. A line that said:

It’s not about how much you love, but about how much you are loved – by God, by the universe, by life itself.

It stopped me in my tracks.

I realised I had never really considered that part. I had been measuring myself by how much I gave, how much I endured, how useful I was – rather than allowing myself to receive.

Something shifted in my body. A new sensation arrived – unfamiliar, softer, more spacious.

I found myself able to talk to my husband about things I wanted to spend money on - something that had always felt too difficult. As we talked, I realised some of the things I named I didn’t actually want. And the things I did want, we had the budget for.

It wasn’t the spending that was hard.

It was the asking.

The belief that I was worthy enough to name my needs.

Therapy, Money, and the Meaning of Worth

Not long after, I started wobbling again – this time around a project that stirred up a lot of “you’re not good enough” noise.

My nervous system was letting me know that something in me needed support. I felt the pull towards therapy… and immediately shut it down.

£65 a week felt unimaginable.

I had never spent that much on myself.

But this time, I paused.

If I value myself, I thought, then not doing this costs even more. Because I carry the weight for longer. And it affects not only me, but my daughter, my husband, my friends, and my work.

So I asked.

And again, I received an immediate yes.

Even then, each session felt like confronting the old belief: this is too much to spend on me. But week by week, I realised something quietly radical – I was doing it. I was choosing myself.

Not as a reward for working hard or being exceptional, but simply to nurture this human existence.

And something softened.

A New Pattern Emerging: Worth That Isn’t Earned Through Hardship

More recently, on another project, I noticed a subtler wobble.

The client didn’t need me very much. Their team was strong, spacious, well-resourced.

And suddenly my mind panicked:

If I’m not desperately needed, then am I valuable?

It was such a revealing thought. A familiar old pattern:

My worth equals how hard I work.

How much I rescue.

How indispensable I am.

But because I’m living nervous system-first, I could feel the shift inside me. That familiar tightening in my chest. The old sympathetic nervous system pull to do more, prove more.

Instead of overriding it, I noticed it. I explored it. I shook it off – literally. I spoke it out loud to a couple of trusted people.

And a new truth emerged, felt rather than rehearsed:

I can be valued simply because I show up in my fullness in the room.

Not because I burn myself out.

That realisation was deeply liberating.

The Healthy Tension of Self-Worth

There is a real and healthy tension around self-worth.

Valuing myself doesn’t mean ignoring the needs or worth of others. If I spend money on myself, I still need to honour my family’s needs. If I consume resources, I still need to honour nature.

But when my self-worth is warped – when I’m in sympathetic nervous system overdrive or dorsal nervous system collapse – my inner measurement system becomes distorted. Everything feels harder. More conflicted. Too much.

When I’m grounded in a ventral nervous system state – connected, present, grounded – my decisions become kinder. To myself, and to those around me.

Signs Your Nervous System Doesn’t Yet Feel Safe Letting You Be Loved

If you notice that you:

• don’t allow yourself simple pleasures
  

• don’t express your needs

• struggle to ask for support

• speak harshly to yourself

• avoid nurturing your body with time, care, or nourishment

• rely on others to rescue you

• feel guilty spending money or energy on yourself

…these aren’t signs that you’re weak or flawed.

They’re signs that your nervous system doesn’t yet feel safe letting you be loved.

And still, you are lovable simply because you exist.

A Gentle Call to Action

If any of this resonates – if you can intellectually understand your worth but struggle to feel it – this is often a sign that your nervous system shifts into sympathetic (fight/flight/fawn) or dorsal (shutdown) when you turn towards yourself.

You’re not broken.

You’re not behind.

Your body is protecting you in the only way it knows how.

Your invitation is to begin building a pathway back to yourself. Slowly. Kindly. Consistently.

Here are a few places to start:

Notice your state

What do your body, thoughts, and feelings tell you about the state you’re in? Do you feel safe, or do you notice protection creeping in? Naming it begins the shift.

Choose one tiny act of self-valuing today

A nourishing meal. Five minutes of stillness. Asking for what you need. Taking a nap if you are exhausted.

Let your body feel your worth in micro-moments

A hand on your heart. A slow exhale. A gentle touch on your own arm.

Seek support that meets your system, not your story

Coaching, therapy, group learning – whatever helps your nervous system feel less alone.

And if you’d like to explore this work more deeply – with a nervous system-first approach – we’d love to walk with you.

Send us a message or join one of our courses.

Learning to love yourself unconditionally will change your life.