You're tired loving everyone else first.
And for a while, it worked.
Or at least, it looked like it did.
You gave with both hands, held with your heart, shape-shifted into every person love required.
You became the warmest place for others—
but left yourself out in the cold.
Done with that noise.
Because here's what no one might have mentioned:
You're not supposed to earn love by disappearing.
You're supposed to receive love by returning—to you.
Loving the one you're with doesn't mean holding space for someone else's drama.
It means not abandoning your own center when the chaos shows up.
It means standing in the mirror and whispering,
"Hey. I see you. I'm not leaving."
It means taking yourself out. Just for the fun of it.
Not to prove your independence,
but to practice your presence.
It means treating your own pain with dignity.
Your joy with reverence.
Your body with awe.
Because the way you love you
is the way the world learns to love you too.
So this is the moment you stop waiting.
For the perfect. For the partner.
For the apology that will never come.
And instead, you become the one who shows up, and stays.
Love the one you're with.
And remember—
That's you.
Now.
Here.
Still becoming.
Always worthy.
Already you.
