For the longest time, I thought love was sacrifice.
That if it hurt, it must mean it mattered.
That if I gave enough, waited enough, stayed enough —
it would all make sense one day.

But love that constantly asks you to shrink
isn’t love.
Love that leaves you guessing
isn’t love.
Love that disappears when it gets hard
was never love at all.

I used to think love was about holding on.
Now I know it’s about holding space —
for two hearts to grow, not break.

Real love doesn’t make you afraid to speak.
It doesn’t punish you for feeling deeply.
It doesn’t make you earn the right to be seen.

It feels safe.
It feels calm.
It feels like being home in your own skin.

And that’s the kind of love I’m waiting for now —
not the one that burns bright and fades,
but the one that stays steady when the world goes dark.

Because after everything,
I finally know what love isn’t.
And that’s how I’ll recognize what it truly is.

Always and Forever

💬 What have you learned love isn’t? Your story might remind someone they deserve something gentler too.