Don't Be Self-Moved in Relationships, an

Don't Be Self-Moved in Relationships, and Never Ask "Why"

 

Last week, my friend Lina sat across from me at a café, her eyes red from holding back tears, as she pulled out her phone to show me a long chat history. For three months, she'd woken up at 6 a.m. every weekend to make homemade bento boxes for a colleague she liked—adjusting the spice level to his preference, adding his favorite pickled vegetables, even decorating the rice with seaweed shapes. She'd walked 40 minutes in the rain to deliver his forgotten laptop to the office, and stayed up late helping him finish a project he'd procrastinated on. But when she finally mustered up the courage to confess, he'd smiled awkwardly and said, "I always thought you were just being really friendly."

 

Lina's voice trembled as she said, "I kept replaying every little thing I did—did I not do enough? Why didn't he see how much I cared? I even wanted to message him and ask, 'Don't you know how hard I tried?'" I looked at her, and I saw a version of so many of us: trapped in a cycle of self-moved giving, where we measure our worth by how much we pour into someone, only to crumble when that effort isn't noticed, let alone reciprocated.

 

Self-movement in relationships is a quiet trap. It happens when we confuse "what we want to give" with "what the other person needs to receive." We buy gifts we think they'll love, plan dates we'd enjoy, and make sacrifices we believe are "proof" of our affection—all while ignoring the subtle signs that our efforts are landing flat. A coworker once told me she'd spent two weeks knitting a scarf for her best friend, only to find it tucked away in a drawer months later. "I chose that yarn because it reminded me of her favorite sweater," she said, "but she's always hated anything scratchy. I never even asked." That's the heart of the problem: our self-moved付出 (giving) isn't about the other person—it's about the story we tell ourselves: I am a good, loving person, and this is how I prove it.

 

The danger of this trap is that it makes us blind to reality. We fixate on our own efforts so much that we miss the other person's cues: the way they politely decline our invitations, the short, distracted replies to our long messages, the fact that they never go out of their way for us in return. Instead of seeing these signs as red flags, we double down—Maybe if I do one more nice thing, they'll finally get it. And when we can't ignore the truth any longer, we spiral into asking "why."

 

Why didn't they appreciate me? Why didn't they see how much I cared? Why wasn't my love enough? But here's the thing: those "whys" rarely have a satisfying answer. Sometimes the person just isn't into you. Sometimes they're caught up in their own life and don't notice. Sometimes they simply don't value the things you value. Whatever the reason, asking "why" only keeps you stuck in the past, rehashing a story that's already over. It turns you into a victim of your own effort, instead of someone who can walk away with dignity.

 

I once went through a similar phase with a friend. I'd always been the one to initiate plans, remember her birthday weeks in advance, and listen to her vent for hours when she was stressed. But when I was going through a tough time, she barely checked in. I found myself lying awake at night, asking, "Why don't I matter to her as much as she matters to me?" It wasn't until I stopped asking "why" and started asking "what do I need?" that I realized I was draining myself for someone who didn't give me the same care. I stopped planning all the outings, stopped overthinking her silence, and slowly, I felt lighter. We're still friends, but our relationship is now balanced—no more one-sided giving, no more self-movement.

 

The key to avoiding this trap is simple: shift your focus from "what I give" to "what we share." Before you pour your heart into a gesture, ask yourself: Does this person actually want this? Have they shown that they're willing to meet me halfway? And when things don't work out, resist the urge to ask "why." Instead, tell yourself: My worth isn't tied to how much someone appreciates me. I deserve to give to people who want to give back.

 

Relationships—whether romantic, platonic, or professional—should be a two-way street. You shouldn't have to convince someone to notice your effort, or beg them to value your care. Letting go of self-moved giving isn't about being cold; it's about protecting your heart. It's about knowing that the right people will see your kindness, cherish it, and give you the same in return—no questions asked, no convincing needed.

 

So the next time you find yourself staying up late to do someone a favor, or replaying your efforts in your head, pause. Ask yourself: Am I doing this for them, or for the story I want to tell? And if the answer is the latter, step back. Your time, your heart, and your love are too precious to waste on self-movement. Save them for people who will meet you where you are—no "whys" required.