A Little Self Reflecting

In these last two years, I’ve learned more than I ever thought I would about myself. I’ve always believed that self-reflection is essential—an honest, raw look at who you are and how you’ve shaped the world around you. And in this time, I’ve come to realize something powerful and simple: I love. I love hard. I love with every ounce of my being, and I do it with the kind of intensity that makes everything else fade to the background. I don’t say “I love you” unless I mean it, unless it’s carved deep in my chest, something I can’t deny, something that moves through my veins and takes up residence in my soul.

Once, someone told me that all the world’s love would never satisfy me. At the time, it stung. It felt like a challenge, like an accusation. But now, with time and a fair amount of reflection, I understand why they said it. It wasn’t that I couldn’t receive love. It was that the love I craved, the love I needed, was something deeper, more real, something that could shatter the earth beneath me and make the stars tremble in awe. The kind of love that burns hot and wild, that consumes you whole and still leaves you wanting more. The kind that makes you forget how to breathe and still makes you feel more alive than you’ve ever been.

But here’s the thing: when someone loves me, I see it. I feel it. I appreciate it more than I could ever say. And yet, there’s this recurring problem. A disconnect. When someone falls for me and I don’t feel the same way, it’s somehow my fault. It’s easy to label me as cold, distant, a bitch, even. But here’s the truth I live by: I don’t lie about how I feel. If I don’t love someone, I won’t pretend that I do. I won’t play a part in a story I’m not invested in, even if it means hurting someone. I’ve been hurt before. I’ve been led on, strung along with false hope. And I can’t, in good conscience, do that to someone else. I refuse. I can’t wear a mask just to make someone else comfortable, no matter how much I wish the situation were different.

Maybe it makes me difficult. Maybe it makes me seem hard. But the truth is, I’m not. I just refuse to settle. Not anymore. I want to feel something real. Something raw. Something passionate. I want the kind of love that leaves you breathless, that makes you yearn for someone in ways you didn’t even know were possible. I want that love that feels like it could move mountains, like you couldn’t imagine life without it. It’s not enough to have someone around just for the sake of having someone. I’ve been there, and I’ve done that. I’ve spent years trying to please everyone around me, trying to make sure others are happy while I quietly lost myself. But not anymore.

If I can’t find the love that makes me feel alive in every way, if I can’t find that person who makes my heart race and my body ache with desire, then I won’t settle for anything less. I don’t want a quiet, comfortable love. I want something that shakes the very foundations of who I am. If that means I’m destined to be alone, then so be it. I’m okay with that.

There was once someone. Someone I loved with a depth I didn’t know I was capable of. Someone who made me forget who I was, who made me lose myself in the process. I compromised everything for him. I let my morals slip, my standards fall, all in the name of holding on to something I thought I couldn’t live without. But now, looking back, I know that love wasn’t enough. It never was. It never could be. It left me broken, and it left me questioning what it really meant to love someone, to love myself. He’ll always have a place in my heart, a corner of me that no one else will ever touch. But I can’t keep living in that shadow.

If I never find someone like him again, if I never feel that kind of love again, I’ll be okay. I’ll be whole. I’ve learned that I don’t need someone to complete me. I’ve learned that the most important thing is to love myself first, to refuse to settle for anything less than everything I deserve. Because I want a love that makes me feel like I’m exploding, a love that fills the emptiness inside me with something so real, so powerful, that nothing else matters. Until then, I’ll wait. I’ll wait for the kind of love that makes the earth move beneath my feet, and if it never comes, well, I’ll still be standing, still be whole, still be me.