For years, I kept waiting for someone to love me the way I needed.
To see me, to understand me, to stay.
But somewhere along the way, I realized — I was waiting for myself.

I spent so long trying to be enough for everyone else
that I forgot what it felt like to be enough for me.
And maybe that’s what heartbreak is meant to teach us —
not how to find love, but how to become it.

I started small.
Saying no without guilt.
Resting without apology.
Letting go of what didn’t grow me.
I stopped chasing closure from people who were never meant to hold it.

Love stopped being about proving anything.
It became about peace — about the soft kind of care that doesn’t need permission.

There’s a kind of love that doesn’t hurt,
doesn’t demand, doesn’t leave.
It’s the kind that comes when you finally stop searching outward
and start looking inward.

Now, when I wake up, I don’t wait for anyone’s message.
I just whisper to myself:
You made it through another day. I’m proud of you.

And that’s love too — maybe the truest kind there is.

Always and Forever

💬 What’s one way you’ve learned to love yourself better lately? Share it — your story might help someone else begin theirs.