“Find out who you are and do it on purpose.” — Dolly Parton
If you’re recovering from a never-ending cycle of narcissists—or just untangling yourself from one particularly consumptive relationship—you may have lost something essential: you.
And you may not even realize it.
One way to find out is to ask yourself the kinds of questions you would ask a partner:
- What goal are you working toward?
- What do you look forward to most in your day?
- Where do you see yourself in five years?
- What do you look for in a partner?
- Do you believe in love?
If your mind goes blank, that’s not failure. That’s information.
It might be time to start taking yourself on coffee dates. To sit down with a beautiful notebook and journal like you’re trying to win your own heart.
The truth is, you can be found right where you are—if you’re willing to dig. But digging can feel terrifying. Shame residue clouds everything. There’s fear in stepping into freedom, especially if you’ve spent years defining yourself through someone else.
In The Feminine Mystique, Betty Friedan wrote:
“It is easier to live through someone else than to complete yourself. The freedom to lead and plan your own life is frightening if you have never faced it before.”
She was right.
Many of us arrive at this crossroads after a breakup, a divorce, a job loss, or the quiet shift that happens when children grow more independent and the house gets still. You look around and feel a low rumbling: Is this it?
Once you break through the barrier that’s been keeping you small, you become unstoppable.
But here’s the catch: you can’t do the deep work by sticking to surface things.
Grief, Numbness, and the Relationships That Follow
When I was in high school, I believed I had found my soulmate. He was tall and golden and creative. He drove an old green VW he fixed himself, blasting The Rolling Stones and Red Hot Chili Peppers while working on it shirtless. He was a skateboarder, an artist, a big brother to four siblings.
And then, the summer after I graduated, he died.
In the late 1990s, in my world, trauma wasn’t processed—it was suppressed. You pushed it down and soldiered on. I went to college determined not to be “the girl with the dead boyfriend.” I drank too much. I mistook attention for affection.
By the time I finished my master’s degree, I was living with a man I would later get engaged to. The relationship was toxic: controlling, egotistical, volatile. He was obsessed with sex and used shame as a weapon. I stayed longer than I should have.
Why?
Because I was numb. Because I equated being desired with being valuable. Because no one had ever explained what healthy love looked like. Because true love had devastated me once, and I had never processed the grief.
When betrayal surfaced—and it did—my drinking worsened. I tried to salvage a relationship that was already a train wreck because the wedding venue had been booked.
Eventually, I left. Packed a U-Haul, loaded my pit bull, and moved states hoping geography could save me.
It couldn’t.
You can’t get rooted by running away.
Rooting Yourself Instead of Running
One memory from that toxic relationship has stayed with me. We were hiking. I grew up hiking—I should have felt strong and steady—but as we walked across uneven rocks, he kept saying, “Be careful. Be careful.”
That phrase echoed my childhood. A constant warning. A quiet message: You are not steady. You are not capable.
It made me anxious. Unbalanced.
Now I live in the mountains and hike with my daughter. She has been confident and coordinated on trails from a young age. And when I hike now, decades later, I feel rooted. Grounded. Strong.
But it took time.
The beginning of healing is rooting yourself where you are. Not chasing the next relationship. Not chasing the next city. Not checking the next societal box.
We have more freedom today than at any point in history. You do not have to get married. You do not have to have children. You do not have to stay in a job that drains you. You can do those things—but only if they align with your soul.
Rooting requires continual reorientation. You don’t glance at the map once and expect to reach your destination. You check your bearings again and again.
Explore Yourself Like an Obsessed Partner
Think about how much effort you’ve put into understanding the people you’ve loved.
You know their enneagram number. Their attachment style. Their favorite food, movie, scent. You anticipate their needs before they speak them.
Now ask yourself:
When was the last time you invested that energy into you?
There are endless ways to begin:
- Take personality quizzes (and notice if you hate them).
- Experiment with exercise styles—cardio, lifting, swimming.
- Try new scents—floral, woody, fresh.
- Ask what color actually makes you glow.
- Pay attention to your coffee order. Do you even know what you like?
Discomfort is a sign you’re doing something real. Growth feels like strain before it feels like strength.
At one point, an ex handed me a forty-page performance evaluation from his workplace and insisted it was essential reading to understand him. He was right.
The problem wasn’t that he wanted to be understood. The problem was that I couldn’t have handed him a forty-page document about myself.
I didn’t know myself that deeply.
Later, after another breakup, I found a list on my computer titled: “Things I Want to Do with You.” It included watching sunsets, hiking to waterfalls, seeing the Northern Lights, walking the moors of England reading Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights, traveling through Canada by train, going to Japan for sushi.
It was a beautiful list.
And then I realized something: I didn’t need anyone else to do those things.
Somewhere along the way, I had lost my bravery. My sense of adventure. My willingness to build cathedrals of gorgeousness in my own life.
Building Your Cathedral
Getting to know yourself will take time. It will feel awkward. You’ll want to quit. You’ll want to numb out. To have a drink. To distract yourself.
Don’t.
Root yourself.
Ask the questions.
Take yourself on the hike. Order the coffee you’re curious about. Buy the notebook. Plan the trip. Sit with the grief you never processed. Let yourself feel the fear of freedom.
Because here’s the truth: a deep, settled love for yourself goes hand in hand with truly knowing who you are.
It’s time to build the cathedral of gorgeousness of your own design.
Your life is waiting.
The Specialist 
Leave a comment