Have you ever thought about how much time you've spent learning how to treat others in your life, yet so few people have taught you how to treat yourself?

From childhood to adulthood, we are taught to be sensible, considerate, and thoughtful of others.

As we grow up, we learn to be good daughters, good wives, and good mothers, and we also strive to be reliable, responsible, and trustworthy in the eyes of others.

We are very familiar with what "interpersonal relations" means.

However, when my mentor asked me, "What is the proper way to treat oneself and others?" I suddenly fell silent.

In CGC learning, we learn to connect with the higher-dimensional wisdom that guides our life growth by "asking upwards," and we collectively refer to this wisdom as our "mentor."

This seemingly simple question made me start to look back at the life I've lived.

I entered into family life at a very young age, and I also began learning how to be a mother very early on.

Back then, I wanted to do every role well. I studied psychology and education, hoping to understand children better and accompany them as they grow in a better way.

Later, I joined CGC, learning, serving, and taking on responsibilities along the way, until I became the Dean of CGC Interstellar Soul Academy.

At different stages of my life, I am always learning how to take care of others, understand others, and accompany others, and I also strive to fulfill every responsibility that comes my way.

Many people might think that I am a very powerful person.

Because whenever something happens, I will find a way to deal with it; whenever someone needs me, I will naturally step forward; as long as I have responsibilities on my shoulders, I tell myself that I cannot give up.

Over time, I got used to the image of myself that seemed strong and capable of handling everything.

However, while I constantly learn how to be kind to others, I rarely stop to truly ask myself:

"How am I right now?" "Am I exhausted?" "What do I truly need in my heart?"

Sometimes, even when life seems to have everything on the surface, you may still feel tired, lonely, and unsure of where to go next.

It's not because there's no one around, nor because life isn't complete enough.

Instead, we've been so busy playing each role well that we've unknowingly forgotten ourselves.

Many years later, I slowly realized that I was good at taking care of others, but I didn't necessarily know how to take care of myself; I was willing to accompany others, but I didn't necessarily know that I also needed to be accompanied.

What I need to learn most is not to do more or be stronger, but to reserve a place for myself among all responsibilities and roles.

In the past, I might have thought that "being self-centered" was selfish, that it meant only caring about myself and not others.

Now I understand that true self-care is not about removing others from your life, but about no longer removing yourself.

We can still love our parents, our partners, and our children; we can still take responsibility and accompany others. It's just that while we are taking care of everyone else's feelings, we are also willing to listen to our own.

When you're tired, don't rush to blame yourself for not trying hard enough. When you don't do well enough, don't criticize yourself harshly. When you're hurt, don't pretend you're okay, simply because we're afraid of becoming a burden to others.

The compassion that Guanyin Bodhisattva taught me is not just about hearing cries for help and extending a helping hand to those in need.

A deeper question is: Can I also hear the voice in my own heart?

When I'm exhausted, can I understand my own exhaustion? When I'm vulnerable, can I allow myself to be without answers for a while? When I can't walk anymore, can I refrain from pushing myself and instead sit with myself for a while?

I used to think that companionship was something one person did for another.

I later realized that true, lasting companionship comes from someone gradually learning not to leave you.

We can't necessarily go back to the past and make up for all the missing companionship in our lives, nor can we expect everyone to understand us.

But starting today, we can learn to be the kind of person who is willing to understand ourselves, accept ourselves, and walk with ourselves.

This doesn't mean we no longer need others, but rather that when others can't understand us temporarily, we won't immediately deny ourselves; and when life doesn't go as expected, we're still willing to stand by ourselves.

Perhaps, how to treat oneself and others is not an answer that can be learned immediately.

It's more like a path back to oneself.

I am still learning along this path.

Learn to feel your own state before taking care of others; learn not to ignore your own needs while taking on responsibilities; and learn to be someone who won't easily leave you before striving to be a companion in someone else's life.

If in the past you, because you were too sensible, too hardworking, and too used to taking care of others, put yourself last, I want to tell you:

You don't need to change everything immediately, nor do you need to blame your past self for it.

All you need to do is start today and slowly reintegrate yourself into your life.

True love is not about sacrificing yourself to the point of never seeing yourself again.

True self-care means that while loving everyone else, we also remember:

I am also someone who deserves to be understood, cared for, and gently accompanied.

Leave a question for yourself:

 When you're tired, hurt, or feel like you haven't done enough, is the way you talk to yourself the same way you would talk to someone you deeply love?