I don’t know about you, but I grew up surrounded by women who didn’t like themselves very much. Women who would rather get the insult in first before the world did. The ones who muttered “I look so old”, “I can’t leave the house without make-up”, or “I really need to lose weight” like it was just polite small talk. I learnt very early that tearing yourself down was not only normal, but expected. It was how you showed humility, how you earned belonging.

And of course, I joined in. I disliked myself deeply. My body, my face, speaking too much... all felt like problems to be fixed. I look back now and wish I could tell my younger self that she would one day feel at home in her skin, that she would learn to love herself plenty (even if not always in a lineal way). But back then, liking yourself felt not only impossible, it felt inappropriate.

We live in a culture where women are trained to find flaws like it’s a sport. From magazines shouting “bikini body in two weeks!” to friends bonding over hating their thighs, self-criticism is the air we breathe. What’s radical is not joining in. What’s radical is deciding you’re fine as you are.

That’s why I say liking yourself is an act of feminism.

Because when women stop apologising for existing, entire systems tremble. The beauty industry relies on us never feeling good enough. The diet industry relies on us always wanting less of ourselves. Workplaces rely on us doubting our worth so we don’t ask for more. Even relationships, at times, rely on us thinking our needs are secondary. What happens if we flip the script? If we decide we are already enough, before buying anything, before shrinking, before smoothing, before earning?

Liking yourself does not mean you think you’re perfect. It does not mean you never change or grow. It means you stop believing that your value depends on meeting impossible standards. It means you respect your body for what it does rather than punishing it for how it looks. It means you trust your voice enough to use it.

And yes, it’s awkward at first. Try saying out loud, “I like myself.” Notice the urge to follow up with “…but I do need to work on…”. That little “but” is patriarchy whispering in your ear. Catch it. Interrupt it. Replace it with a full stop.

The truth is, self-love is contagious. When you see a woman who is unapologetically herself (not perfect, not flawless, just herself)it does something. It gives permission. It cracks open the door for others. That’s why, when you like yourself, you’re not only healing you. You’re shifting culture. You’re modelling for your children, your friends, your colleagues, that there is another way to be a woman in this world.

And honestly, it’s joyful. It feels lighter to laugh at the nonsense rules, to shrug off the comments, to stand in front of a mirror and say, “Hello, you. You’re alright.”

So if you’re looking for your next act of feminism, start there. Like yourself. Not quietly, not secretly. Loudly, shamelessly. Because every time a woman decides to love herself, the patriarchy loses a little ground. And I think we all agree, that’s part of the revolution