The best choice I ever made was to simply be quiet. I stopped chasing and stopped worrying about others’ opinions of my worth. The integrity, accountability and authenticity to myself was far more valuable than a job or a date.

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about what actually makes us feel good about ourselves- not the surface level stuff like accomplishments, likes, or compliments, but the deeper sense of self-worth that sticks around even when life isn’t going perfectly. For me, I keep coming back to three things, integrity, accountability and authenticity. They kind of sound heavy or corporate, but really they’re at the heart of feeling solid and who we are.

Integrity. It’s about doing what you say you’re going to do and living in line with your values. It’s not about being perfect- it’s about being consistent. When I follow through on promises I’ve made to myself or others, even small ones, I feel like I can actually trust myself. And honestly that self-trust is a huge piece of confidence. When I don’t have integrity- when I say one thing and do another- I feel scattered and disconnected.

Accountability is the part I used to resist the most. It means owning my actions and their consequences even when I fuck up. It’s so tempting to deflect, make excuses, or just hope no one notices. But subtly every time I do that, my self-esteem takes a hit. When I practice accountability- even though it’s uncomfortable- I end up feeling more grounded. There’s something powerful about saying, “Yeah, I dropped the ball. Here’s where I’m going to fix it.” It shifts the story from shame to growth. And what petite ginger doesn’t want to feel taller.

And then there’s authenticity, which is maybe the most valuable of the three. It’s about showing up as my real self, not just the filtered version I think people want to see. It’s fucking scary, because what if people don’t like the real me?

News flash you will always be enough for the right people.

But the flip side is, when you hide behind a mask or people pleasing, even if people do like you, you won’t actually feel seen. Authenticity is what makes relationships meaningful, and it’s what lets you rest in your own skin without feeling like you’re performing all the time. Performance is just fucking exhausting.

I realized these three need each other. Integrity without accountability can turn into stubbornness. Accountability without authenticity just feels like punishment. Authenticity without integrity can make you careless under the excuse of “I’m just being myself, just being honest.” But when all three come together, that’s when self-esteem feels real and steady. It’s not about being flawless-it’s about being aligned, transparent and true.

And while I’m on the subject, people often confuse, honesty and transparency as if they mean the same thing, but they’re not quite interchangeable. Honesty answers the question. Transparency answers the question AND shares the part of you wouldn’t have thought to ask about.

For example, if someone asks you how you’re feeling about a connection and you say, “good,” that can be honest- you’re not lying. But transparency sounds more like, “This feels good, but I’m not used to feeling good so I’ve feeling a little scared and I’m not sure why.” That extra layer reveals something real, something that could otherwise be hidden under technically true words. That’s why transparency feels more truthful than honesty alone. Honesty can live on the surface. Transparency opens the door to connection and what’s happening beneath. Honesty gives you the facts; transparency gives you the context. Honesty tells you the truth when it’s convenient; transparency offers it even when it’s deathly uncomfortable.

Transparency matters because it builds trust faster and deeper than honesty by itself. It says, “I’m not only going to tell you the truth when pressed, I’m going to let you into my world enough that you don’t have to wonder what’s left unsaid.” That’s where intimacy grows- in friendships, in love, even within yourself. At its core, transparency is riskier but also more freeing. It takes courage to let people see the messy edges. But it’s that very risk that makes it powerful. Because when you live transparently, you’re not just being “not a liar,” you’re saying, “Here I am, all of me, even the parts I’d rather hide.” And weirdly that’s the thing people are starving for – the full story, the full connection. This is the kind of truth that changes relationships, especially with yourself.

As I was saying, there’s something incredibly freeing about not caring anymore—about letting others feel how they feel and do what they do. It’s not about you. People should seek meaning through what they value, and only engage in principles they can control. We can’t control others’ actions or opinions, and we shouldn’t try. Ultimately, we’re the only ones who have to live with our choices. When you focus on your own decisions and personal growth, and letting others be who they are, it frees you from unnecessary stress.

Books like *The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck* and *Let Them* explore these ideas. Great reads btw, though slightly bordering on toxic positivity. I was already mostly on this path over the past couple of years, but it was reassuring to see my conclusions validated. It’s okay to seek your own validation because, loving yourself, and not hurting other people when you don’t have your shit together, is what matters.

Last year, I truly stopped trying to convince anyone of my worth. I thought I had done most of this work after my divorce and through  coaching, but things that pop up always have a way of reminding me where I still have work to put in. Growth isn’t linear. Modern dating brings this up in spades. I think it has to do with those of us who haven’t committed to deep healing which sometimes leads to mishandling the agency of their actions.

I’m not fighting for anyone’s attention. Like I told someone I used to date, I will fight with you, and for you, but never over you, or your ego. Whatever people choose to do is on them. I’m no longer bound by the need to prove myself or the anxious need to fix what wasn’t mine to fix. It’s their journey. And the truth is I may be the one that got away in someone’s story, but I’ll always be able to come back to mine. This quiet strength comes from knowing that my value doesn’t depend on others’ recognition. I let go of the exhausting pursuit of validation to embrace the serenity of self. This decision brought clarity that my worth has always been there, independent of anyone’s opinions—whether they’re lovers, friends, parents or colleagues.

You’d think as adults we’d have figured this out. But when we didn’t receive validation and approval at a young age—from those who should have given it unconditionally—we subconsciously chase it which can lead to hurtful patterns until we break that generational trauma. We just need to be reminded every once in a while if other people don’t see our value it’s rarely ever about us. It’s about people’s capacity to hold space for us. So we hold space for them, and in our silence we find peace.