Self-Hate Isn’t the Problem: It’s the Protector
The secret story behind self-hate and the slow work of reclaiming yourself.
Apr 27, 2025
These past few weeks have been full of reflection. I just returned to Florida after extended travel through California, New York, and New Jersey — an experiment in resilience, reconnection, and taking in the beauty of a snowy winter and the dramatic California coastline. Travel offered so much, but it also disrupted my usual routines around eating and self-care. Staying consistent was hard, understandably.
Coming back home feels grounding. The weather has been amazing, and I’ve returned to my early morning solo walks, meditation, and connection with community.
As I thought about this month’s newsletter, I kept coming back to a topic that can feel heavy — self-hate. It feels important to offer a different lens: one rooted in curiosity and deeper understanding.
Your soul knows the geography of your destiny. Your soul alone has the map of your future, therefore you can trust this indirect, oblique side of yourself.
(Anam Cara)
For many of us, the voice of self-hate feels so familiar that we barely notice it anymore.
It shows up in moments of uncertainty: "You’re not good enough."
It punctuates our exhaustion: "You should be doing more."
It rises up in relationships: "Of course they’ll leave — you’re too much."
When we finally turn toward it in therapy or reflection, the instinct is to make it go away.
"I just want to stop hating myself."
"I know it’s irrational, but I can’t seem to shake it."
But what if self-hate isn't the real problem?
What if — as strange as it sounds — it's been trying to protect you all along?
In the NeuroAffective Relational Model (NARM), we understand self-hate not as a defect, but as an adaptation.
When we were small, we needed love, attention, and emotional safety to survive.
And when that didn’t come — or only came conditionally — our developing minds had to find a way to make sense of the unbearable.
Rather than risk seeing our caregivers as unsafe or incapable, we turned the blame inward.
"If I’m the problem, at least the world stays predictable."
"If I’m bad, maybe I can become good enough to be loved."
Self-hate was the child’s brilliant, painful way of keeping attachment intact.
Of preserving hope.
Of making unbearable circumstances feel survivable.
As adults, these survival strategies no longer serve us.
They keep us trapped in cycles of perfectionism, self-abandonment, shame, and despair.
But because they were once life-saving, they feel safe — even when they hurt.
Healing isn’t about eradicating self-hate.
It’s about understanding it, honoring the fierce loyalty it represents, and gently, patiently learning new ways of relating to ourselves.
Self-hate softens when we stop treating it as the enemy.
When we meet it with curiosity, compassion, and grief for the little one who had no other choice.
You don't need to fight harder to love yourself.
You need to recognize that the part of you who still hates is the same part that once loved so much, and fought so hard, to survive.
And that is a story of resilience — not failure.
Reflection Invitation
Where in your life do you notice the voice of self-hate showing up?
What might it be trying to protect you from feeling?
Thank you for being here.
Ruth Trujillo Pertew supports bright, thoughtful women in healing the patterns of self-abandonment and finding freedom beyond survival strategies. Feel free to set up a consultation.