We absolutely take ourselves for granted. It's the same thing with siblings, with partners, with parents--there's a reason you can fight with your sister (for example) in such a way that if anyone else took that tone with her, you'd kill them, all without losing your fierce love for her. It's a special kind of bond based in both the joy and the terror of knowing this person will always be around and will always have to love you (and vice-versa). There's something beautifully heartbreaking in those old, old bonds.
In theory, we have that same relationship with ourselves, but more often than not, we see the contentious side, the I'm-so-sick-of-you side, the why-can't-you-change side. And no one's sticking up for you, no one's got your back. When you're fighting with yourself, there's no sister to step in and beat the ever-living shite out of the bully.
Part of it is about old expectations, old traumas. Part of it is an addiction to external approval. But part of it is a deep self-loathing that our generation(s) seems to have adopted. So fierce is it that we can't stand to step back and really look at ourselves. We find other people endlessly fascinating, consider some of them perfectly put together, perfectly content. It's very difficult, but can we turn that third-party gaze onto ourselves? Even if just for a moment, half a breath is enough--small glimpses are best. Look for the creature you've been neglecting and let her show you what riches she's gathered.