Who am I supposed to hand all this baggage to?
En un momento en que Colombia debate qué formas de vida merecen respeto, la actriz Katherine Porto ofrece una respuesta que empieza hacia adentro: el amor propio no es un destino ni una imagen, sino una práctica diaria de autoconocimiento y honestidad que precede a cualquier vínculo con el mundo exterior. A través de un libro, un espacio de bienestar en Bogotá y conversaciones sin filtro sobre transformación personal, Porto invita a sus contemporáneos a dejar de buscar afuera la validación que solo puede construirse desde adentro.
- Porto advierte que la mayoría de las personas delegan en otros la tarea de quererse a sí mismas, y esa delegación tiene un costo silencioso pero profundo.
- El juicio social que recibió la periodista Silvia Corzo por casarse consigo misma expone cuánto peso ejerce aún la norma cultural sobre las decisiones personales en Colombia.
- La actriz responde con una postura clara: si una elección te hace feliz y no daña a nadie, la opinión ajena sobra.
- Su libro 'Microdosis de amor propio' y su tienda de matcha en Bogotá funcionan como extensiones de un mismo argumento: el bienestar interior requiere espacios concretos y hábitos sostenidos.
- El horizonte que traza Porto no es el de la autosuficiencia solitaria, sino el de la plenitud como condición para relacionarse con autenticidad.
Katherine Porto ha construido en los últimos años un proyecto personal que se aleja de lo que la industria del entretenimiento podría haber esperado de ella. La actriz, conocida por producciones como Pasión de Gavilanes, escribió un libro titulado Microdosis de amor propio y abrió un espacio de bienestar en Bogotá donde el matcha y la introspección conviven como parte de una misma filosofía.
Cuando habla de amor propio, Porto es precisa: no se trata de mirarse al espejo y sentirse bella, aunque eso pueda ser parte del camino. Es una práctica cotidiana que exige presentarse ante uno mismo con la misma dedicación que se le daría a alguien querido. Implica conocerse a fondo, incluyendo las partes incómodas, y dejar de esperar que otra persona provea la validación que cada quien debe darse primero.
La actriz habla desde la experiencia. Durante mucho tiempo fue dura consigo misma, y el cambio llegó cuando entendió que cargar con el resentimiento y la autocrítica no era sostenible. Los traumas y las decepciones no desaparecen si se ignoran; solo se transforman cuando se miran de frente. Nadie puede hacerse cargo del equipaje ajeno, dice, y esa responsabilidad es intransferible.
Al referirse a Silvia Corzo, la periodista que protagonizó una ceremonia de sologamia, Porto no duda: si esa decisión la hace feliz, es la correcta para ella. Señala que Colombia gasta demasiada energía juzgando cómo viven los demás, cuando cada persona llega al mundo a cumplirse a sí misma, no a satisfacer expectativas externas. No es un argumento contra el amor compartido, sino a favor de que ese amor nazca desde la plenitud y no desde la carencia.
Katherine Porto sits down to talk about the work she's been doing on herself, and the conversation moves quickly past small talk into something more honest. The actress, known for roles in Pasión de Gavilanes and a string of other Colombian productions, has spent the last few years building something different from what the industry might have expected. She wrote a book called Microdosis de amor propio—small doses of self-love—and opened a matcha tea shop in Bogotá, a wellness space at Carrera 12a # 78-58 that functions less like a business and more like a sanctuary for the kind of internal work she's been doing herself.
When she talks about self-love, Porto doesn't reach for the Instagram version. She's clear that it's not about looking in the mirror and feeling beautiful, though that can be part of it. Self-love, as she describes it, is a daily practice, something you have to show up for the way you show up for another person you care about. It requires knowing yourself thoroughly—the parts you like and the parts that make you wince. Most people, she says, spend their energy looking for love outside themselves, waiting for someone else to provide the validation they should be giving themselves first. The real work starts when you stop outsourcing that job.
Porto speaks from experience. She admits that for a long time she was hard on herself, critical in ways that didn't serve her. The shift came when she realized that carrying around resentment and self-judgment wasn't sustainable, that if she wanted to change the things about herself she didn't like, she first had to acknowledge them without shame. Trauma, regret, disappointment—these things don't disappear because you ignore them. They transform only when you look at them directly and decide what to do with them. She frames it as a responsibility each person owes themselves: you can't hand off your own baggage to someone else and expect them to sort through it for you.
The conversation turns to Silvia Corzo, a journalist and broadcaster who recently made headlines by marrying herself in a symbolic ceremony called sologamia—a ritual commitment to oneself rather than to another person. It's the kind of thing that generates immediate judgment in a society like Colombia's, where unconventional choices still draw scrutiny. Porto's response is straightforward: if Corzo feels good about it, if it makes her happy, then it's the right choice for her. She pushes back against the impulse to judge, suggesting that Colombia as a culture spends too much energy policing how people live their lives. We come into the world to fulfill ourselves, she says, not to meet someone else's expectations of what we should be doing.
There's a quiet radicalism in this position, even if it sounds simple when you hear it said aloud. Porto isn't arguing against partnership or love with another person. She's arguing that those things should come from a place of wholeness, not desperation. That you should know yourself well enough to recognize what you actually need versus what you think you're supposed to want. Her book, her shop, her willingness to talk openly about the messy interior work of becoming yourself—these are all invitations to that same kind of honesty. She's not offering a formula. She's offering a mirror and suggesting you look into it without flinching.
Citações Notáveis
Self-love is daily work you have to practice to live a more balanced life. It's the first love, but we think we find it outside ourselves or get it from someone else.— Katherine Porto
If she feels good about it and is happy, then she should do it. We came into the world to fulfill ourselves, not others.— Katherine Porto, on Silvia Corzo's sologamia ceremony
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
When you say self-love is daily work, what does that actually look like? What's the practice?
It's noticing when you're being cruel to yourself and choosing something different. It's recognizing a thought that doesn't serve you and not believing it automatically. Some days it's just deciding to rest without guilt. Other days it's having a hard conversation with yourself about what you actually want versus what you think you should want.
You mention trauma and things people don't like about themselves. Isn't there a risk that focusing inward becomes self-indulgent, or that it lets you avoid real problems?
No, because real transformation requires you to face those things, not avoid them. You can't change what you won't acknowledge. The self-indulgence is actually the opposite—it's staying stuck because you never look at yourself honestly.
What made you decide to open a physical space, a shop, rather than just write the book?
Because people need a place to practice this. A book is one thing, but a space where you can sit, breathe, be around others doing the same work—that's different. It's a sanctuary, not a transaction.
When you talk about not handing your baggage to someone else, are you saying people shouldn't get into relationships?
I'm saying relationships should come from a place of wholeness, not need. If you're with someone because you need them to complete you or fix you, that's not fair to either of you. But if you know yourself and you choose to build something with another person—that's different.
How do you respond to people who think sologamia or what Silvia Corzo did is selfish?
I think Colombia judges too much. We're taught that your worth comes from what you do for others, from being in a relationship, from fitting in. But you can't pour from an empty cup. Choosing yourself isn't selfish—it's necessary.