The Two Daphnes: A Story About Choosing Self‑Love

Today, let’s talk about self‑love. To do that, let’s meet Daphne. Daphne has two children and a husband of fifteen years. She works in the fitness industry, let’s say. She is lean, intelligent, and she spreads positive energy wherever she goes. That’s on the good days.

On the bad days, Daphne is just like you and me — a mild human with her ups and downs. The difference between us and Daphne is that she chooses self‑love, which means she has more good days than bad days.

On a bad day, Daphne oversleeps. She wakes up at seven and her morning is rushed, getting herself and the children ready. Her husband gets himself ready; it’s like they live in opposite worlds but next to each other. She drops her son off at school on the way to her job at the gym. She has back‑to‑back clients and a couple of fitness classes. She didn’t make her lunch last night, so she goes across the road to get some Nando’s — well, sometimes even fitness people are allowed a Nando’s.

She passes through her mum’s, who collects the children from school and nursery, before heading home. She is tired, but her husband has made enough food for them all. Sometimes he doesn’t — it depends on his day. It’s a lottery, really. She is grateful she doesn’t have to cook.

She then makes sure the children are bathed, have brushed their teeth, she plays with them, and then reads to them before bedtime. She loves her children dearly, but she has to stay with them every single night to put them to sleep. It is a privilege, really, to be able to do that, so she does not complain even though she is exhausted.

Her husband went for a run, and he comes back just as the younger one is closing his eyes. But he forgets to be quiet and opens the door with an impulse, so the younger one opens his eyes wide and bedtime starts all over again. As frustrating as this is, keeping the child in mind, Daphne holds her shit together and waits another hour until the little one falls asleep.

She then barely has the energy for a shower. Her husband wants sex, but she is too exhausted to keep her eyes open, so she refuses. He tells her he doesn’t feel loved anymore. As we said, it’s like he lives in an opposite world but next to her.

Now let’s look at our positive Daphne and the choices she makes to fill her life with positive energy.

She wakes up at 5 a.m. She meditates and does a 10‑minute yoga stretch. She journals. She writes down five things she is grateful for — the early quiet morning, the job she loves, the smell of freshly made coffee, her children safely sleeping upstairs, and her health enabling her to take care of them.

She then wakes the children up in time for them all to enjoy a healthy breakfast — blueberry pancakes and orange juice. Protein pancakes for her, of course. Her husband wakes up at his own time, as this is his choice to live in an opposite world.

But today, Daphne tells him to take the little one to nursery as she wants to make herself a healthy lunch. Her husband does not like it at first, but Daphne cannot control his reaction. He agrees, and even though it isn’t a joyful agreement, Daphne is grateful she has an extra pair of hands to drop the child off. It could be better, but it could also be worse. It is average. Daphne does not like average, but for now it works — it makes her life more convenient, she supposes.

The children and her husband leave. She makes her lunch and has time to walk to work. The weather is lovely, so she walks in the sun and soaks up the vitamin D. How lucky is she to be able to walk to work and enjoy the sunshine. She loves her job.

On the way back, she texts her mum to drop the children off at home; her husband is home, and she won’t be able to make it. Mum does not like it, but again, it isn’t within Daphne’s scope of abilities to control her mum’s reaction. She has enough time to walk home. The children will be dropped off to her husband, who can take care of them. If he didn’t cook today, he can make them toast.

Walks are good for Daphne, and to her surprise, when she arrives, dinner is ready. Very convenient.

She then tells her husband to bathe the children so she can shower, and he does as she says. Again, he is a fully capable human who sometimes needs a reminder, even though at times it feels like she is raising three kids instead of two.

Her marriage is now a convenience, nothing else — but it works. She sometimes wonders whether things will be better when the children grow up or whether they will decide to go separate ways.

She and the children are clean. She prepares them for bedtime while her husband goes for a run. She reminds him to open the doors quietly as the children will be falling asleep, and this time he remembers. The children fall asleep, and she goes to bed when her husband has a shower. It was a tiring day, but she stuck to her routines.

For Daphne, self‑love means asking for help loud and clear instead of expecting people to read her mind, as obvious as it might seem.

We cannot control people’s reactions, but we can ask for help and make the most of the help we receive as an act of self‑love.

Self‑love isn’t soft, selfish, or indulgent — it’s a form of leadership. It’s the quiet decision to honour your limits before they break you. It’s the courage to ask for help even when your voice shakes. It’s choosing routines that nourish you instead of drain you. It’s recognising that your needs matter just as much as the needs of the people you care for.

Self‑love is not about creating a perfect life; it’s about creating a life where you are not lost inside it. Daphne’s story reminds us that when a woman chooses herself — even in small, imperfect, everyday ways — she shifts the entire atmosphere of her home. She becomes steadier, clearer, more grounded. And that steadiness becomes her power.

Self‑love is the moment you stop waiting for others to change and start choosing the version of yourself you want to live with.