The Bagel Shop Test
Self-respect isn’t one dramatic moment. It’s built in hundreds of quiet ones you’ll probably never get credit for.
When was the last time you did something for yourself — not because someone told you to, or because you had anything to prove, but because you genuinely believed you were worth the effort?
Sit with that for a second.
That question is at the heart of everything I want to talk about today.
What self-respect actually looks like. Not in the big, cinematic moments where the answer is obvious. But in the everyday, unremarkable ones where nobody’s watching and only you know whether you followed through.
Let me take you back to the late ‘90s.
I was 19, almost 20, working a summer job at a small nightclub in Stamford, Connecticut. Dancing on a box (fully clothed, for the record) at a place that was 18 to get in and 21 to drink. I was young, having fun, and I met a guy. We started dating. And when summer ended and it was time to go back to college in Binghamton, NY, my mom offered to drive me up and was kind enough to let him tag along.
Three hours. My mom. My baby brother. Me. And this guy.
We moved into my new apartment, made a few runs to the grocery store and Kmart for storage and cleaning supplies, got settled. And when it was time for them to head back to New York, we stopped at the bagel shop I used to work at. Ordered turkey sandwiches. Coffee. The usual.
And then we waited.
The deli counter person was slicing turkey, taking a normal amount of time, doing exactly what you’d expect from a deli counter person. And this guy… lost it. Slamming his hand on the counter. Cursing loudly. Asking me — making sure the guy behind the counter could hear — “What is this guy, a fucking idiot? What the hell is taking so long?”
My mom, the only actual adult in the situation, calmly told him we weren’t in New York City, that there was no rush, that we’d get our turkey.
He told her to mind her business. Because he was a grown man.
I was mortified! I used to work at this place. And beyond the embarrassment, I remember feeling something else — a strange, buzzing discomfort I didn’t have the language for yet. I just wanted to keep the peace. I pulled my mom aside before they left and asked if she’d be okay driving with him for three hours.
She said, “Don’t worry. I’m going to mind my business"!”
It was a rough start to the semester between falsely maintaining interest in this long distance relationship with a needy man-baby and adjusting to my new schedule.
Three weeks after the bagel shop fiasco, I went home for a weekend.
He took me to the movies. Afterward, we were walking through the mall — packed on a weekend, stores on both sides of us — and I broke up with him right outside of Spencer’s Gifts and H&M.
He couldn’t understand why. Kept asking. I kept saying the same thing: you were disrespectful. To me. To my mom. I can’t be with someone and always have to wonder how you’re going to react when something doesn’t move fast enough for you.
He didn’t get it. But I stuck to my guns.
It took me a few weeks to muster up the courage to be honest. Part of me was afraid of how he would react, and part of me kept putting it off until I saw him in person.
Here’s what took me some time to understand: that moment in the bagel shop wasn’t just bad behavior. It was information. When someone shows you who they are — when they’re angry, impatient, losing their cool over turkey meat — they’re telling you something real about themselves. About how they move through the world when things don’t go their way.
And here’s the thing I didn’t fully understand at 19 that I know now: the fact that it took me three weeks to act on that information was also telling me something about myself. About how much I was willing to tolerate.
Self-respect isn’t built in the big, obvious confrontations.
It’s built in the small, quiet moments. The ones that stack up over days and weeks and months until they either become the evidence that you showed up for yourself… or the evidence that you didn’t.
Things like going to the gym when you said you would… because you made yourself a promise and you’re the kind of person who keeps her promises — especially to herself.
Every set you finish is a small act of self-respect. Every rep is you saying, my goals matter. My health matters. I matter. Nobody has to understand that. Nobody has to agree with it. But you know. And that knowing is the whole thing.
It extends beyond the gym, too.
How are you sleeping? Not how much you wish you were sleeping — how are you actually sleeping? I have to force myself to go to bed early because I will never naturally feel tired at night. Never. But I’m up at 5:30 every morning, and the only way that works without destroying my body over time is to be intentional about the night before. That’s not discipline for discipline’s sake. That’s respect for what tomorrow’s version of me is going to need.
What are you eating? Are you going to your routine doctor’s appointments — the ones you keep adding to that running list in your phone and never actually scheduling? Are you getting bloodwork done? Are you staying on top of your markers? Or are you putting your body last on a list that never seems to get shorter?
And what is your inner monologue doing?
Because I’ll tell you — the way you talk to yourself inside your own head is one of the clearest indicators of how much respect you have for yourself. If you eat something indulgent and spend the next two hours punishing yourself for it, that’s not self-discipline. That’s cruelty. And you would never let someone else talk to you that way.
How you treat yourself teaches the people in your life exactly how to treat you.
When you respect your own time, you stop tolerating people who waste it.
When you protect your energy, you get better at recognizing who fills your cup and who drains it — and you start making different choices about how much access each person gets.
A few years back, I had a handful of clients who, every time I trained them, I could not stop yawning. Lethargic. Exhausted. Like all I wanted to do was curl up after the session. And when my schedule shifted and those particular clients moved on — different gyms, different schedules — I noticed something. The random midday exhaustion stopped. The energy that had been disappearing suddenly wasn’t.
I’m not saying this to be mean. I genuinely hope the work we did together served them. But that experience taught me something I haven’t forgotten: some people drain you, and your body will tell you before your brain is ready to admit it. Respecting yourself means paying attention to those signals. And then actually doing something about them.
A few months ago, I made a commitment to myself.
I had an idea for a program that had been living in my head for a while — going through iterations, getting refined, getting clearer. Around Christmas, I made a decision: this is going out into the world by the end of Q1 2026. I wrote it down. I told myself.
And then I did the work. Every day after training clients in person, I’d come home and get on my computer and build. I was learning new systems while I was creating. It wasn’t efficient. It wasn’t pretty. But I finished it — about a week and a half past my original date, but still Q1. Still done.
And I have to tell you… the feeling of doing the thing you said you were going to do? That’s self-respect in action. Not the Instagram version. The real version. The one that lives inside you and doesn’t need an audience.
I’ve started more projects than I’ve finished in my life. That’s just the truth. So this one mattered. Not just as a product — but as proof to myself that I’m the kind of person who sees it through.
Now it’s your turn.
Take an honest look at an area of your life where you’ve been letting self-respect slide. Where are you being a little too lenient — with yourself, with someone else, with both?
Maybe you’ve been skipping workouts and telling yourself it’s fine when you know it’s not. Maybe someone in your life has been treating you in a way you wouldn’t accept if you really believed you deserved better. Maybe your inner monologue has gotten unkind and you’ve just… stopped noticing.
Pick one thing this week. One concrete act of self-respect. Set the boundary. Start the meal prep. Go to bed early. Finish the workout you said you were going to finish. Make the appointment you’ve been avoiding.
Do it not because someone told you to. Do it because you are worth the effort.
And then notice how you carry yourself differently when you keep that promise. Notice how the people around you start to adjust. Observe how the ones who don’t start to stand out.
This is the work. Not the dramatic version. The quiet, consistent, nobody’s-watching version. That’s what builds the unbreakable woman.
If you’re curious about the program I mentioned — the one I committed to launching and actually got out the door — it’s called Lift Like You Mean It. It’s my training System: the audio lessons, the plans, the full cohesive program. Not a piecemeal here’s-a-workout situation. A real, structured commitment.
You can get more details here.
I’m proud of you for showing up.
~Tiana :)