Last night I watched a Gabor Maté masterclass that I had bought months ago and never finished. At one point he talked about something that stayed with me: what happens when, as children, we learn that love is not simply there, unconditionally, but somehow feels connected to what we do.

A child needs love. There is no philosophical discussion about it. You need connection, attention, affection, safety. And if somewhere along the way you learn that being good, being useful, helping, behaving in a certain way or taking care of other people’s needs helps you receive that connection, you adapt. You learn what works. The problem is that you don’t necessarily stop doing it when you grow up.

You can become an adult who still carries this invisible equation somewhere inside: to receive love, I have to do something. I have to help. I have to be available. I have to understand. I have to give. I have to make things easier for other people. And because you have been doing it for so long, it doesn’t necessarily feel like a strategy. It can simply feel like your personality. I’m generous. I’m the person who helps. That’s just who I am.

Then something happened today. I don’t want to write about the situation itself because it involves somebody else and that part of the story isn’t mine to share. But my reaction to it is mine. I got angry. And underneath that anger I suddenly saw something that connected directly with what I had heard the night before. I realised just how often I make myself available to people. How naturally I move towards helping, solving, giving, doing. How easily somebody else’s need becomes something I feel responsible for.

And then a much more uncomfortable question appeared: What happens if I stop? If I don’t solve the problem. If I don’t offer the favour. If I don’t make myself useful. If sometimes I say, I can’t. Or simply, I don’t want to. Will I still feel worthy of love when I have nothing to offer?

That question hit me much harder than I expected. Because I don’t want to stop being generous. I don’t want to become somebody who doesn’t care about other people. Helping people is genuinely part of who I am, and I don’t want to lose that part of myself. What I want to lose is the feeling that I have to earn my place in somebody’s life through what I can do for them.

I want to know what relationships look like when I am not constantly proving my value. I want to discover who loves my company rather than my usefulness. Who wants me when I am tired, unavailable, inconvenient, quiet, struggling, or simply doing absolutely nothing for them.

Maybe the question isn’t whether I should give less. Maybe the question is whether I can finally believe that I don’t have to give anything in order to deserve love.