Not long ago, at the end of a somatic therapy session, someone looked me in the eye and asked: “What’s the point of loving myself?” It’s a deceptively simple question-one that slices straight to the heart of our struggles. And yet, it’s a question so many of us quietly wrestle with, day after day.

When a friends mom passed away, and some years later my partner’s mom, I found myself thinking: “Is this really it? Is life just a game of Russian roulette—of who gets sick, gets cancer and dies and who doesn't... yet?” But then I realized something. It’s not random. It’s not a roulette. We’re self-destructing all the time. Sometimes we’re the ones pulling the trigger. Sometimes we’re killing ourselves slowly, without even realizing it.