A person who asks little of the outside world — that’s what we call independent. We all agree independence is a virtue, and plenty of people aspire to it. Parents, especially, hope their children will grow into independent adults.
I wouldn’t call myself extraordinarily independent, but compared to who I used to be, I ask for far less — so I’d say I’m fairly independent now. Independence in daily life means I can organize my own meals, clothing, housing, and transportation. Financial independence means my savings can cover my day-to-day expenses. Emotional independence means I can think through most problems on my own and find my way out of dark patches by myself.
But after reflecting on this for a while, I realized that independence is actually a personality forged by necessity. In daily life, if someone tended to my every need and fulfilled my every wish, I wouldn’t be independent at all. Financially, if someone handed me a bottomless supply of money, my financial independence would vanish. Emotionally, if someone happened to be right beside me every time I hit a low point — and happened to understand exactly how I felt — I wouldn’t be emotionally independent either.
There’s nothing wrong with leaning on others. The problem is that every person and every thing outside of yourself is inherently unstable. Your parents may support you practically and financially. Your partner and friends may support you emotionally. But any of them can leave at any moment — by choice or by fate. By choice: a partner’s change of heart, a friend’s betrayal. By fate: the death of someone you love.
When someone you’ve depended on for years is suddenly gone, how do you keep going? Once I grasped this, I started building the habits of independence before life forced them on me.
I don’t dare ask too much of anyone, because I’m afraid of disappointment. I’ve lived through enough of it to know — pain that lands on your own body cuts far deeper than any lesson you’ve only heard about.
I’m afraid of being hurt, so I stopped reaching out to the world for what I need. All I can do is make myself strong enough that when I need a hand, I can be the one extending it.
Loving others matters, of course — but the prerequisite is learning to love yourself first. When I no longer need to ask the world for love, that’s when I can give it freely — expecting nothing in return, because I no longer lack a thing.