Eartha Kitt on Self-Love and Shared Joy
I fall in love with myself, and I want someone to share it with me. And I want someone to share me with me. — Eartha Kitt
—What lingers after this line?
One-minute reflection
Why might this line matter today, not tomorrow?
Self-Love as the Starting Point
Eartha Kitt’s line begins with a declaration that can sound cheeky but lands as a serious principle: loving yourself is not a prelude to love—it is love. Rather than waiting to be validated by another person, she frames self-regard as a lived romance, complete on its own terms. In that sense, she challenges the familiar script where partnership is treated as proof of worth. From there, her statement implies that self-love is not isolation. It is the foundation that makes connection possible without desperation, because affection is offered from abundance rather than need.
Sharing Love Without Handing Away the Self
After establishing self-love, Kitt turns outward: she wants someone to “share it” with her. The “it” matters—it suggests her joy, her confidence, her life as she already experiences it. This is different from asking someone to create happiness for her or to complete her identity. Instead, she invites companionship as an addition to a stable inner world. Consequently, her desire reads as an argument for interdependence: two people can be close while neither is swallowed by the other. The relationship becomes a space where a person’s selfhood is witnessed rather than replaced.
Being Witnessed: The Intimacy of Recognition
The quote then deepens: she wants someone to “share me with me.” Here love becomes a mirror, not a mask. We often learn ourselves more clearly through attentive relationships—someone notices our patterns, names our strengths, and reflects our growth back to us. Kitt’s phrasing captures that subtle intimacy: a partner can help you encounter yourself with fresh eyes. In this way, the relationship is not a rescue mission but a form of recognition. The partner participates in the ongoing act of self-discovery, making the inner life feel seen, legible, and celebrated.
Autonomy as an Erotic and Emotional Value
Kitt’s insistence on self-love also echoes her public persona: she was known for refusing to trade her independence for approval, professionally or romantically. Read through that lens, the quote becomes a boundary in disguise: she welcomes closeness, but not at the cost of self-erasure. Her “I” remains intact before, during, and after any romance. As a result, the line reframes attraction itself. Confidence and autonomy are not obstacles to love; they are part of its appeal. The best partner is not one who diminishes the self, but one who can stand beside it.
A Healthy Alternative to the ‘Completion’ Myth
Moving from style to substance, Kitt undermines the idea that love is about finding a missing half. That myth can romanticize dependency—if you need someone to be whole, you may tolerate dynamics that shrink you. Kitt’s model is the reverse: wholeness first, sharing second. This doesn’t deny longing or vulnerability; it simply relocates them. You can want partnership intensely while still believing you are already a full person. In practice, that belief tends to produce relationships based on choice rather than fear.
What This Looks Like in Everyday Love
Taken into daily life, Kitt’s quote points toward a relationship where each person brings a rich internal world and invites the other into it. A simple example is the partner who supports your solo pursuits—your art, friendships, or quiet rituals—then genuinely enjoys hearing about them, not as competition but as shared delight. Finally, her line suggests a mature romantic goal: not to be saved from yourself, but to be accompanied in yourself. When self-love is real, partnership becomes less about possession and more about participation—two people sharing one another while still standing firmly in their own skin.