Why Spending Time With Yourself May Be the Self-Care You’re Missing
When was the last time you spent meaningful time alone?
Not scrolling on your phone.
Not answering emails.
Not catching up on chores.
Not taking care of someone else.
Just you, with you.
For many people, that question is surprisingly uncomfortable. We become so accustomed to being spouses, parents, employees, friends, caregivers and problem-solvers that our own relationship with ourselves can quietly move to the bottom of the list.
Psychotherapist and author Dr. Corey Yeager believes that relationship deserves far more attention.
In a conversation with Heal Squad, Yeager explores why knowing yourself, protecting your energy, setting boundaries and even becoming more comfortable with discomfort can be essential parts of personal growth.
His starting point is deceptively simple:
The person you spend your entire life with is you. So how well do you actually know that person?
Who Knows You Better Than Anyone Else?
Ask someone who knows them best and they’ll often name a spouse, partner, parent or closest friend.
Yeager offers a different answer:
You do.
Other people may know you incredibly well. But no one else has access to every thought, memory, experience, fear and story you’ve accumulated throughout your life.
Everyone else knows a portion of you.
You’re the only person who has been present for all of it.
That isn’t an argument for shutting other people out. It’s an invitation to recognize the importance of becoming someone you know, understand and trust.
As Yeager explains, before he can be a good husband, father, therapist or professional, he first has to be “a good Corey to Corey.”
Why Your Relationship With Yourself Affects Your Other Relationships
Putting yourself first can sound selfish.
Yeager argues that the opposite may often be true.
If you understand your needs, boundaries and non-negotiables, you may be better equipped to show up authentically in your relationships.
If you don’t, you can spend enormous amounts of energy meeting everyone else’s needs while gradually becoming depleted yourself.
The result can be resentment, exhaustion or a nagging feeling that you’re doing everything for everyone—and very little that feels meaningful for you.
Self-care, in this sense, isn’t withdrawing from other people.
It’s making sure there’s enough of you available to participate in your own life.
Busyness Can Keep You From Looking Inward
There’s another reason spending time with yourself can be difficult.
You may discover things you’d rather not examine.
Yeager distinguishes between looking out the “window” of your life and looking into the “mirror.”
The window lets you focus outward.
Other people’s problems.
Work.
The news.
Family responsibilities.
The causes you care about.
The mirror asks different questions.
Who am I?
What am I avoiding?
What isn’t working anymore?
What do I actually want?
What stories am I telling myself?
Constant busyness can make it remarkably easy to avoid those questions.
Are You Keeping Yourself Busy on Purpose?
Some people may unintentionally structure their lives so there’s almost no opportunity for self-reflection.
The calendar stays full.
The phone stays on.
Someone always needs something.
There’s always another task.
Yeager discusses the idea that we can repeatedly tell ourselves stories that keep us safely inside familiar circumstances.
I could never leave this job.
I don’t have another choice.
I can’t do that.
The story may feel completely true because you’ve repeated it for years.
Spending time with yourself creates an opportunity to question it.
Is this actually true—or has it simply become familiar?
Try Spending Time Alone Without Filling the Space
Alone time doesn’t automatically create self-awareness.
You can be physically alone while spending the entire time distracted.
That’s why the practice Yeager describes requires some actual space.
Go somewhere alone.
Sit quietly.
Take a drive.
Eat by yourself.
Travel by yourself.
Put the phone away for a while.
Then notice what happens.
Do you become uncomfortable?
Do you immediately reach for stimulation?
Do you feel guilty?
Do you start worrying about what everyone else needs?
Those reactions aren’t necessarily problems.
They’re information.
They show you where there may be something worth exploring.
Your Discomfort May Be Telling You Something
We naturally tend to move away from discomfort.
If something feels awkward, scary or emotionally difficult, the instinct is often:
Make this feeling stop.
Yeager offers another way to interpret it.
What if some discomfort is evidence that you’re entering unfamiliar territory?
What if it means you’re growing?
That doesn’t mean every painful situation is good for you or that you should remain in harmful circumstances.
The point is that growth itself can be uncomfortable.
Having a difficult conversation can be uncomfortable.
Setting a boundary can be uncomfortable.
Spending time alone can be uncomfortable.
Changing an old habit can be uncomfortable.
Trying something you’ve never done before can be uncomfortable.
Sometimes discomfort isn’t telling you to retreat.
Sometimes it’s telling you that you’re doing something new.
Boundaries Don’t Require an Emergency
Yeager shares an unusually simple example of boundaries.
If his phone rings, he doesn’t automatically answer it.
Why?
Because a ringing phone means only one thing:
Someone would like to speak with him.
It doesn’t mean he is required to speak with them at that exact moment.
The same applies to someone knocking on his door.
He describes sitting in his living room where someone outside can see him—and still choosing not to answer.
That can feel almost radical in a culture where accessibility has become the default.
But Yeager’s point is that another person’s request for your attention doesn’t automatically create an obligation to provide it immediately.
You Don’t Have to Earn the Right to Be Unavailable
This can be particularly difficult for people who pride themselves on being dependable.
You’re the one who answers.
Helps.
Fixes.
Responds.
Shows up.
And eventually, you may begin believing that taking time for yourself requires a legitimate excuse.
Yeager rejects that idea.
You don’t necessarily need an emergency to protect your time.
You don’t have to be completely burned out before you’re allowed to rest.
And you don’t have to wait until someone else gives you permission.
What Is a “Me Day”?
Yeager describes recognizing when he becomes overloaded and needs what he calls a “Corey day.”
It’s intentional time for himself.
His wife understands what it means, and because he explained why that time matters to him, she can help protect it.
The important part is that the boundary wasn’t simply announced without discussion.
He communicated what was happening.
He explained that he was feeling overwhelmed.
He described why he needed space.
Eventually, the people closest to him understood that taking time alone wasn’t a rejection of them.
It was a way of taking care of himself.
You don’t need to call it a “me day.”
But you might benefit from creating your own version.
Give Yourself Permission Instead of Waiting for Someone Else to Do It
There’s an important distinction between being given permission and giving it to yourself.
A spouse might say:
Why don’t you take the afternoon for yourself?
That feels wonderful.
But Yeager asks why we need someone else to offer the permission first.
If you know you need a quiet drive alone, you can say:
I’m going to take this drive by myself today.
You’re not asking.
You’re communicating.
For people accustomed to accommodating everyone else, that can be a meaningful shift.
Self-care becomes something you intentionally choose rather than something someone occasionally allows you to have.
Why Setting Boundaries Can Make You Feel Guilty
Even when a boundary is reasonable, guilt can arrive almost immediately.
I should have answered.
I should go.
They’re going to think I’m selfish.
I should be helping.
Yeager describes much of that guilt as self-imposed and learned.
If you’ve spent years believing a good person is always available, becoming unavailable can initially feel wrong.
That doesn’t necessarily mean the boundary is wrong.
It may mean the behavior is unfamiliar.
Part of developing boundaries is learning that you don’t have to automatically accept every guilty feeling as proof you’ve done something bad.
Your Partner Doesn’t Have to Grow at Exactly Your Pace
Personal growth can also create tension inside relationships.
One person begins changing.
They become more reflective.
They start setting boundaries.
Their priorities shift.
Their partner may not be moving at the same speed.
Yeager doesn’t suggest demanding that the other person “catch up.”
He recommends something much more practical:
Talk about it.
Say that you’ve noticed a difference.
Explain what you’re experiencing.
Ask what they’re experiencing.
The goal isn’t to determine who is more evolved.
It’s to prevent an unspoken concern from growing into resentment.
Have the Conversation Before Resentment Has Years to Build
Difficult conversations often become more damaging because we postpone them.
Something feels wrong.
We don’t say anything.
Six months pass.
Then a year.
Eventually, the conversation isn’t:
I feel like we’re in slightly different places.
It’s:
You haven’t grown with me for three years.
Now you’re not discussing the original concern.
You’re unloading accumulated resentment.
Yeager uses a metaphor from his grandmother:
Once toothpaste is squeezed out of the tube, you can’t put it back in.
Words can work the same way.
That’s why talking earlier—while the problem is still manageable—can be an important form of relationship care.
Try Reframing Difficult Conversations as Growth
What prevents many of those conversations?
Discomfort.
We anticipate awkwardness or conflict, so we avoid the subject.
Yeager suggests reframing that feeling:
This discomfort may mean I’m growing.
Suddenly the goal isn’t to eliminate the discomfort.
It’s to move through it thoughtfully.
That shift can apply far beyond relationships.
Learning something new.
Making a career change.
Setting a boundary.
Facing something you’ve avoided.
Trying again after failure.
Growth rarely guarantees comfort.
In fact, unfamiliarity is often part of the process.
Failure Doesn’t Have to Mean You Lost
Yeager cites an idea he attributes to Nelson Mandela:
In life, we can think of ourselves as either winning or learning.
The lesson is not that failure doesn’t hurt.
It’s that failure can contain information.
If something doesn’t work and you learn nothing from it, you’re more likely to repeat the same pattern.
But if you examine what happened, you can adjust.
Maybe you’ll make another mistake.
But ideally, it won’t be the exact same one.
That turns setbacks into feedback.
Don’t Stop Dreaming Because You’ve Already Succeeded
Another interesting part of the conversation concerns what happens after you’ve accomplished something.
People are often encouraged to dream when they’re starting out.
Visualize the career.
Imagine the opportunity.
Work toward the goal.
Then something changes once success arrives.
You may start hearing:
Isn’t this enough?
How much more do you need?
Why aren’t you satisfied?
Wanting to continue growing can begin feeling greedy.
Yeager sees a distinction between greed and growth.
For him, growth is about continuing to become a better version of himself rather than declaring that he has “arrived.”
His metaphor is simple:
Be a river, not a pond.
A pond can become stagnant.
A river keeps moving.
Growth Doesn’t Require Constant Achievement
That doesn’t mean you need a bigger title, more money or another public accomplishment every year.
The “next level” can be internal.
Becoming more patient.
Developing a healthier relationship.
Understanding yourself better.
Communicating more clearly.
Learning how to rest.
Changing the way you speak to yourself.
Growth doesn’t always have to be visible to everyone else to be meaningful.
Listen to the Way You Talk to Yourself
Yeager believes one of the most important forms of self-awareness involves self-talk.
There’s an internal conversation happening throughout the day.
That was stupid.
You’re never going to get this right.
You look terrible.
Everyone else is ahead of you.
You should have done better.
Many people speak to themselves in ways they would never tolerate from another person.
Yeager offers a revealing test:
Imagine writing down the negative things you routinely say to yourself.
Now give that script to a friend and ask them to say those things to you every day.
Would you remain friends with that person?
If the answer is no, why is that language acceptable when it comes from you?
Don’t Try to Change Every Negative Thought Overnight
Once you recognize negative self-talk, it’s tempting to launch an aggressive self-improvement campaign.
No more negative thoughts.
Everything positive starting tomorrow.
Yeager recommends something more realistic.
First, become aware.
Notice the thought.
Then gradually begin replacing some of the negative language with something more constructive.
One thought at a time.
One response at a time.
The goal isn’t to suddenly transform your internal voice.
It’s to slowly change the balance of the conversation.
Ask: Does This Thought Serve Me?
Awareness creates a small but important gap between having a thought and automatically believing it.
A negative thought appears.
Notice it.
Then ask:
Does this serve me?
If it doesn’t, consider what you would rather reinforce.
That doesn’t mean denying reality or replacing legitimate problems with empty positivity.
It’s about recognizing when your internal dialogue is unnecessarily working against you.
The more often you catch those patterns, the easier it may become to choose a different response.
Think of Your Energy Like a Budget
Most of us understand that money is finite.
Spend everything in one place and there isn’t much left for something else.
Yeager suggests treating energy similarly.
Where are you spending yours?
How much goes toward work?
Family?
Friends?
Other people’s emergencies?
Worry?
Negative self-talk?
Things you don’t actually want to do?
He describes the idea as an energy budget.
You can’t pour endlessly into everyone else’s glass while yours remains nearly empty.
Fill Your Glass Before You Pour From It
This may be one of the simplest images from the conversation.
Imagine your glass is only one-quarter full.
Yet you’re constantly pouring into everyone else’s.
Eventually, there’s nothing left.
Yeager suggests reversing the order:
Fill your glass first.
Then give from what’s available.
That doesn’t mean withholding love, generosity or support.
It means recognizing that continuously depleting yourself isn’t a sustainable form of caring for other people.
Sometimes protecting your energy is what allows you to continue giving it.
Treatment and Healing Aren’t the Same Thing
Toward the end of the conversation, Yeager makes an important distinction between treatment and healing.
He uses the example of a physical wound.
A clinician may clean the wound, apply medication and close it.
That’s treatment.
Then the body begins its own healing process.
Yeager applies that metaphor to his work as a therapist.
A therapist can provide treatment, guidance and support.
But he describes healing as something that ultimately has to occur within the person.
The professional isn’t handing someone healing.
They’re helping create conditions that can support it.
You Can Get Help Without Giving Away Your Role in Healing
That distinction doesn’t mean people should avoid professional treatment.
Quite the opposite.
Yeager’s point is about understanding your role in the process.
A therapist can ask questions.
Provide tools.
Help identify patterns.
Create a safe place to explore difficult experiences.
But the individual remains an active participant.
Healing isn’t necessarily something someone else does to you.
It’s something you participate in.
Start With One Question
You don’t need to schedule an entire day alone tomorrow or overhaul every relationship in your life.
You could begin much smaller.
Sit quietly for a few minutes and ask:
What do I need right now?
Then pay attention to what happens.
Maybe the answer is rest.
Maybe it’s a boundary.
Maybe it’s a difficult conversation.
Maybe it’s reconnecting with a dream you stopped pursuing.
Maybe it’s noticing how harshly you’ve been talking to yourself.
Or maybe the first discovery is simply that you don’t know the answer yet.
That’s okay too.
Because the larger lesson from Yeager’s conversation isn’t that you need to have yourself completely figured out.
It’s that you need to become curious enough about yourself to start asking the questions.
You are the one person who has been present for your entire story.
Perhaps it’s worth spending some time getting to know who that person is now—and who they’re still becoming.