I Didn’t Think I’d Be Loved Like This.

There was a time I believed I was unlovable. Both because I was told that directly, and because I was treated like I was too much. Too emotional. Too reactive. Too broken.

I used to think love meant shrinking. Diluting myself. Performing stability I didn’t feel.

But then I met someone who didn’t flinch when I cried. Who didn’t mock my spirals. Who didn’t make me feel small when I was already hurting.

My partner is patient. Not perfect, but present. And that’s something I didn’t know I was allowed to ask for.

I used to believe that love had to be earned through silence, compliance, or emotional labor. Now I know that love can be loud. Messy. Unfolding.

This version of me doesn’t beg for love. She receives it. She questions it sometimes, because safety still feels unfamiliar. But she’s learning to trust it. To trust that she doesn’t have to be healed to be held.

And that’s progress. Not the kind you measure in milestones. But the kind you feel in your bones.