Just under two weeks ago, my best friend sent me the following message on WhatsApp: “I chose myself,” followed by an 18-minute voice note where she recounted how difficult it was to realise that she had to let go of a part of herself. She told me that choosing herself had been an act of self-love.

As I listened to her explain what she felt, I understood that she was trying to shake off the feeling of being selfish. I've known her for over ten years, and despite watching each other grow, I never felt such an urge to hug her as I did that day.

We grow up with the belief that we must be “good girls” - whatever that means - and that there are certain decisions we shouldn't make, things we shouldn't do, and words we shouldn't say because they are too selfish. Am I the only one who notices the hypocrisy in this matter?

Before continuing, I want to clarify from the outset and for future reference that, to me, my friends are the wisest people that exist, and that's why their advice is like treasures: I keep them in a safe place.

Now, back to the evasion of selfishness: have you never felt that we were gradually built to meet other people's expectations? Moderate tone of voice, elbows off the table, straight back, crossed legs, and waterproof mascara so they don’t see us cry. Almost as if our perfection made us worthy of something: being saved.

I don’t know if everything is really the fault of the fantasy of a prince charming arriving on a white horse - or with a job contract that will finally make us happy and recognise our talent - to rescue us from ourselves: from our desire to run off and conquer the world, from the times when we want to say what we think without holding back, and the days when we can’t bear to look in the mirror.

We feel guilty for wanting to save ourselves, without needing someone else, because all our lives we’ve been told that we are selfish if we behave differently than expected or prioritise our well-being above anything else.

About six months ago, I was also looking for someone to save me from a job that made me supremely unhappy: I felt suffocated, with little time for my partner, my friends - or even for myself - and above all, I felt that my talent was stagnant. I felt stuck in a routine that I always wanted to escape: living for someone else, working in something that brought me nothing but anxiety. Indirectly, I was looking for someone to rescue me from the loop I was in and give me value as a creative. Likewise, I was terrified and didn’t feel capable of handing in my resignation letter: I believed that by leaving, I was being ungrateful.

Shortly afterwards, I resigned. Not just because I found another place to put my attention and time. I resigned because I realised that this was not the life I wanted to live: no time, no energy, and unhappy. I resigned even if it made me ungrateful. I preferred to be so, to be selfish, but to free myself from the guilt of living in a way I didn’t want to just because it was what was expected of me.

Being selfish with our time, our energy, our projects, and our feelings is what allows us to seek what truly fulfils us.

Listening to that 18-minute audio from my best friend reinforced it and filled my heart with pride: we didn’t come to spend our 20s (or 30s, 40s, or any other age) denying ourselves the possibility of building a life we dream of for fear of seeming selfish.

Being selfish keeps us from looking back and feeling remorse for what we didn’t do out of fear of what they would say if we raised our voice a little more, sent that message, bought that dress, or boarded that plane. Being selfish allows us to reconcile with our fears to give the world the best of ourselves.

Let’s give up what doesn’t fulfil us, love much more than just a little, hug if we feel like it, wear the outfit, upload the photo, and cry without fear of ruining the makeup. Let’s be selfish in the healthiest way possible: choosing ourselves.