**Diary Entry**
I’ve been thinking lately about what happens to a woman who sacrifices too much for others. Erich Maria Remarque once said something that stuck with me: “A woman who scrimps on herself invites men to do the same—they’ll start scrimping on her, too.” It’s true, isn’t it? At first, we cut corners for ourselves, then life—and everyone in it—begins cutting corners for us.
Modesty, kindness, good manners—these are qualities praised in novels, where they’re always rewarded. But real life isn’t a novel. To a dishonest person, gentleness and generosity are just traits to exploit. Not every virtue is a shield—sometimes, in the wrong company, they become weapons used against us.
A kind, well-mannered woman must learn to read people, to keep from being taken advantage of. But to understand others, you must first understand yourself. Why do women so often deny themselves, and what do they gain from it?
No one will thank you for self-deprivation. It’s not just about money—women skimp on rest, stretch themselves thin for loved ones, shrink their own desires to accommodate others. That’s living a life half-lived.
People grow used to it: ask for little, receive little. At first, you’re the one tightening the belt. Soon, others tighten it for you. Exhaustion sets in. And when you finally ask why your life is nothing but giving, silence answers.
No one cheers when you’re worn to the bone, when the joy has drained from you. No one praises you for self-denial—not even yourself.
Bad habits breed bad lives:
Good habits don’t always bring happiness, but bad ones guarantee misery. The habit of self-sacrifice often starts with love—a partner, a child. Your world rearranges. Once, you were the centre of your own story. Now, you’re a supporting character. A mother loves so fiercely she forgets herself. A woman in love will trade her time, comfort, ambitions—anything to keep that love. And those you love? They grow accustomed to it. You taught them to expect it.
What happens when you finally reclaim yourself? When you stop denying your own needs? Anger. No one says, *“Thank you for all those years! Now it’s our turn.”* No—they resent you for taking back what they’d come to see as theirs.
If fear of that resentment keeps you silent, years slip by. Decades. Until one day, you wake and wonder: *Where did my life go?* If you don’t want to vanish behind others’ lives, stop living like an afterthought.
Self-doubt steals more than dreams:
What does it really mean to “scrimp on yourself”? It’s believing you’re not worthy of the job you want, that others are smarter, better. That you shouldn’t learn to paint or dance because you’ll never match those who’ve trained for years. That another woman is lovelier just because her nose is straighter, her hair more lustrous.
Self-denial becomes a habit—one that leaves you settling for less, fearing rejection. But a *no* isn’t permission to lower your standards.
This habit stifles dreams. It keeps happiness out of reach, wrapped in the lie that you don’t deserve it.
Don’t skimp on time for yourself—on quiet evenings with a book, on dreams, on the small joys that light you up. Time spent in contentment isn’t wasted. It refills what the world drains.
Sometimes, I think people act as if they’ll live forever. They wait for perfect timing, compare themselves to others, put things off. But life isn’t a rehearsal.
Don’t shrink your soul to fit someone else’s expectations. If I measured myself against every other writer, I’d never dare put pen to paper.
—Erich Maria RemarqueBut if you live for others without ever living for yourself, one day you’ll realise the greatest loss wasn’t what you gave away—it was what you never allowed yourself to have.
