Loving Others Starts with Loving Yourself

Most people know one of Judaism's most foundational commandments:

"You shall love your neighbor as yourself." (Leviticus 19:18)

The Talmudic sage Rabbi Akiva called this not just one of Judaism's great teachings but its central one (Bereshit Rabbah 24:7). When a prospective convert asked Hillel to summarize the entire Torah while standing on one foot, he said: "What is hateful to you, do not do to your neighbor. The rest is commentary. Go study." (Tractate Shabbat 31a)

But here's what usually gets skipped: to love others like yourself, you actually have to love yourself.

Research backs this up. A 2023 study in the journal Mindfulness found that people who reported higher levels of self-love "gravitated more strongly to self-transcendent values: feeling benevolent toward others, valuing creativity and open-mindedness, and seeing the worth in all people." Psychologists describe compassion for others as an outward extension of the compassion we feel for ourselves. People who show compassion for others while lacking it for themselves are often replaying a learned pattern from childhood, growing up with inconsistent caregivers can produce adults who view others positively and seek their approval, while holding deeply negative views of themselves. (Do We Need to Love Ourselves Before We Love Others?, Greater Good Magazine)

The 19th-century rabbi Shimon Shkop offers a strikingly similar theory. He argues that love for others is an expansion of self-love, possible once we recognize that all people are connected.

"Although at first glance it seems that feelings of love for oneself and feelings of love for others are in competition," he writes, "we have the responsibility to understand them both — since both are expected of us.

This idea is hinted at in Hillel’s statement, ‘If I am not for me, who will be for me? And when I am for myself what am I?’ Meaning, every person must develop a sense of self, which should be their first priority…But a person who has a broad sense of self to include the larger community or world is true greatness. For in a huge engine, even a small screw is vital.” (Introduction to Shaarei Yosher, Gates of Righteousness)

None of this means ignoring your flaws. It means accepting them while believing you can change. Psychologist Kristin Neff, who pioneered research on self-compassion, identifies three components: treating yourself with kindness, recognizing that mistakes are part of being human, and approaching difficulties with honest awareness rather than harsh judgment. (Do We Need to Love Ourselves Before We Love Others?, Greater Good Magazine)

Holding both truths at once — I am flawed, and I am worthy — is the core skill of Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT). And it turns out the Torah was already pointing in this direction. The verse right before the command to love your neighbor commands you to actually rebuke your neighbor:

"You shall not hate your kinsfolk in your heart. Reprove your kin but incur no guilt on their account." (Leviticus 19:17)

Rabbi Shimshon Rafael Hirsch unpacked the Hebrew word for rebuke, tochacha, noting it almost always means bringing someone "to the recognition of an unpleasant fact about himself" — not to tear them down, but to help them grow. Real rebuke comes from love. You see the flaw and you still believe in the person.

The same standard applies to how we treat ourselves; we should accept the parts of ourselves that are flawed while acknowledging our intention to learn and grow. When Hillel told the prospective convert that the core principle of the Torah was to treat other people the way you’d want to be treated, he pushed him to go and study. Acting with kindness is not the only goal; it takes work to become better.

As psychologist Dr. Elizabeth Hopper puts it: "When working toward a more compassionate society, it may be especially important to make sure that we emphasize both types of compassion, without losing focus on one or the other."

A DBT exercise called "Both-And Reflection" can help build this skill. Name one thing that feels undeniably true right now — "I am overwhelmed" or "This hurts." Then add a second truth that can sit alongside it: "I am doing the best I can" or "This feeling won't last forever." Sit with both statements together, resisting the urge to let one cancel out the other. This practice builds emotional flexibility by allowing pain and possibility, struggle and strength, to coexist without forcing a false choice between them.

To learn more about self-care and how to cultivate it, see our resource “Guard Your Soul Carefully - Prioritizing Caring for Yourself.”