How can I love someone before I love myself?

Over the past few weeks, I’ve been reflecting on love. Not fantasy love, not chaotic love, but the kind that feels like peace. This piece is not about chasing a relationship. It’s about understanding what it really means to be ready for one.

How Can I Love Someone Before I Love Myself?

This is a beautiful set of words for all my beautiful ladies out there: let’s manifest romantic love.

My intention here is to give you practical and lived experience exercises. But first, we need to clarify what romantic love actually is. This is my definition: romantic love is fiery, emotional, and full of passion that we feel towards another person. It is where we create intimacy, sexual desire, and idealisation of moments with that person.

But how can we manifest romantic love? Is it possible to manifest it? Yes, it is possible. The most important question is not whether it is possible. The most important question is: how are you manifesting your romantic love? The answer to this question changes everything.

You do not manifest love by asking the universe to bring you someone. You manifest love by removing what blocks love from staying.

Let us first look at the reality of the woman you are.

You are strong, independent, and capable. You are productive and do not need to be rescued by any man. You move, build, plan, and execute. You are not lonely. You are functional, organised, and safe.

And yet, somewhere inside you, you still want romantic love.

Because you have built so much and endured difficult challenges, you have learned to harden. You hardened from the inside out. That strong brick wall does not accept chaos, obsession, or intensity disguised as passion.

When you think about manifesting love, your biggest blocks are usually fear, impatience, lack of safety, self-betrayal, and more. Why? Because many people learn to live in chaos. In my view, a person does not attract chaos; a person learns to live with it. You become used to it. Then calm feels unfamiliar.

Because of that, the other person would need to be strong enough to hold you, strong enough to hug you, strong enough to keep you, strong enough to teach you that chaos is a no-no. A big no-no. There is no trust in calm. There is fear of not feeling chosen. Not feeling chosen often comes from betrayal and past broken relationships. Every relationship that breaks breaks both people. Both parts suffer. Both parts cry. That is the reality.

Now, let us ask something more important. What would you do if your romantic love, the one you have been “manifesting,” actually arrives?

What would be your first question? About the man? About the woman?

We often miss the most important questions, and those are about ourselves.

Where am I in my life right now?
Do I actually have space for romantic love?
What is my definition of romantic love? How do I view it? Is it healthy?
Am I ready to let this manifested love go if it is not meant to stay?

Romantic love is not something you chase. It is something you prepare for. Preparation is key. It is not fantasy. It is practical.

One of the practical exercises I use, whether I am single or in a relationship, starts in the bedroom. Look at your bedroom. Look at your bed. Does it reflect partnership or survival? Is there space for two lamps? Two bedside tables? Two people? Or does it reflect independence and control?

If you truly want romantic love, your physical space must reflect that intention. Your sacred space is not only your bedroom. It is your entire house, your heart, and your soul. But the bedroom is where we begin.

In my own practice, I replace everything that feels old, carries heavy energy, or does not feel right. Anything that feels like survival mode, I remove. Old bedding with holes, old compromises, old energy—put it in the bin. I refresh bedding, scents, flowers, sheets. As I do these rituals, I visualise the presence of the partner I want. I create space for “him,” or if I am already in a relationship, for my partner.

For mothers who fold laundry in the bedroom, I understand. We do not have to be perfect or do rituals every day. Sometimes it is not possible. But a few times a week, as many as you can, is enough.

This practice does three things at once.

First, it interrupts stagnation. Old bedding represents old identity and old compromises. Replacing it is both symbolic and practical.

Second, it introduces partnership into the nervous system. Pairs of lamps. Shared space. Co-habitation without a person present yet.

Third, it invites complementary energy safely. Not sexual. Not performative. Just presence, support, participation.

You are teaching your body what togetherness feels like before it arrives. You are forcing the brain to adapt without argument.

Another exercise I give is listening to romantic music and singing to romantic love. This is not about the other person. It opens the chest. It softens guarded emotion. It reintroduces tenderness without risk. It changes how a woman feels about herself as a romantic being. That is healing.

You are not manifesting intensity. You are manifesting shared life.

You must also understand something important. Romantic love that comes may not come to stay forever. It may come to teach you something. When it is time for it to go, you must let it go. Do not block your energy. That is a misconception. Love is not obsession. It is respect. Some relationships are soul contracts. They come, they teach, and they go.

The biggest exercise about love chasing is this: do not chase it.

Your mindset is step one. These changes are for you. They are not about lowering your standards to secure a relationship. The person who comes will accept you as you are and where you are in life. A relationship is a commitment of continuous respect and understanding.

Now we return to the central question: how can I love someone before I love myself?

When someone loves another before loving themselves, they are asking the other person to regulate them. They are asking the other person to choose them so they can feel chosen. They are asking the other person to give safety they do not yet have inside.

That is not romance. That is survival.

Survival love always comes with fear.

Real love should feel like peace and home. Security. A sense of home away from danger and uncertainty. Calm, healthy love may feel unfamiliar at first. It may feel unsettling in a good way. Butterflies, warmth, a grounded sense of being held. But it should not feel like walking on eggshells. It should not feel chaotic.

If romantic love arrived tomorrow, calm, healthy, and present, what part of you would struggle the most to receive it? How do you give love the conditions to reveal itself? If you decide to observe quietly, what are you watching for?

You are watching for peace. You are watching for whether this person brings calm to your body. You are watching whether you feel safe, grounded, and at home. You are watching whether you can share simple life: walking in the woods in winter, early spring with birds and green leaves, foraging where legally allowed, cooking meals together, buying a dress and feeling good, visiting museums and galleries, holding hands.

Nothing sexual. Nothing performative. Just shared life.

Manifesting romantic love is not about attracting someone through words. It is about regulating yourself to recognise peace and honest love when it arrives. And when it arrives, you must not sabotage it. If it leaves, you must not collapse.

You are not manifesting intensity. You are manifesting shared life.

And that begins with loving yourself first.

Marcia