Hosting Myself First

What it means to stop waiting and start choosing yourself intentionally

When was the last time I made space for myself the way I would for someone else?

Or better yet…
Why did I learn how to show up for everyone else, but not for myself?

The truth is—I don’t think I was ever taught not to show up for myself.

I was taught how to show up for others.

There’s a difference.

As the eldest daughter, that role comes naturally. You watch, you learn, you repeat. You see your parents nurture, so you nurture. You see them comfort, so you comfort. You step in where you can, not because you’re told to—but because it becomes part of who you are.

Care becomes instinct.

And somewhere in that instinct, I believed something quietly:

If I take care of everyone else… I will be taken care of too.

Not out of transaction—but out of trust.

That’s how I loved.

That’s how I lived.

And then life happened.

I became a young mother. My world shifted. My focus shifted. Everything became about my children—protecting them, loving them, giving them what I felt I didn’t always have.

And I did that well.

But what I didn’t realize was…
I was slowly moving myself to the back of my own life.

Not intentionally.

Not maliciously.

Just… quietly.

Over time.

And so when I ask myself now—
When was the last time I made space for myself?

The honest answer is:

I’m just now learning how.

At 46.

And if I’m being even more honest…
This didn’t come from a place of empowerment.

It came from a breaking point.

Because what healing doesn’t always tell you is this:

When you get serious about it…
everything you’ve suppressed will come back up.

Everything.

And for the first time, I had to sit with something I had never said out loud before:

There was never space for me.

Not in the way I needed it.

Not consistently.

Not intentionally.

And that realization hurt.

Because it showed up in places I didn’t expect—
in my relationships… in my needs… in the quiet urgency I felt when I would say:

“Make space for me.”

Over and over again.

But how could anyone give me something…
I had never fully given to myself?

That’s the part that changed everything.

Because hosting—what I thought was about other people—was never just about other people.

Hosting is:

Intention.
Care.
Presence.
Preparation.

And I had mastered that… for everyone else.

So the question became:

What would it look like if I hosted myself first?

And that’s where the shift happened.

Not overnight.

But intentionally.

I stopped waiting for company.
Stopped waiting for the right moment.
Stopped waiting for someone else to create an experience for me.

And I created one for myself.

The Solo Table for One.

Not as a sad substitute…
but as a decision.

To sit with myself.
To prepare meals with intention.
To set the table, light the candle, pour the wine… not because someone was coming—

but because I was there.

And something unexpected happened in that space.

It didn’t feel lonely.

It felt considered.

Like I was finally giving myself the same level of care I had always given to everyone else.

And that’s when I realized—

This isn’t about luxury.

It’s about consideration.

Because if I’m honest…
That's all I ever wanted.

To be considered.

Not perfectly.
Not extravagantly.
Just… intentionally.

And now, I give that to myself first.

I’m no longer waiting:

For company.
For love.
For permission.

I am becoming the experience.

Creating the environment.

Choosing myself—fully, intentionally, without apology.

And in this season of stillness… of listening… of obedience…
I’ve come to understand something deeper:

Making space for myself is not selfish.

It’s preparation.

Because when you clear your mind, your home, your heart—
you are making room for what’s meant to enter.

And this time…

I will be ready.

Hosting myself first is how I return to myself.

And it sets the standard for everything that enters my life after.

So let me ask you this—

What would change if you treated yourself with the same care you give to everyone else?

With love, always — La O.