This thing called love is weird. It has a way of making you look like a fool, while feeling brave. Many use it as a motivator, an excuse or a reason for being. So one wonder why, even though love for the basis of our very existence, do humans try so hard and hide love when it’s in its purest form?
I always thought I loved people until my nephew was born. I was the girl that did what people asked. I never said no, and smiled even when I was offended. I did ever questioned the motives of people, and followed in hopes I would be lead to a better space of being. My version of love was based on what I hoped I could avoid in my life. I didn’t want to just people, so I let people walk over me. I didn’t want to offend anyone, so I allowed people to insult me. I became an easy target all in hopes that I will be loved and perceived as though I love people. This became my version of love…
I became to wonder why love was so painful in reality. In the movies, love looked so easy. People said the words, and a healing process would begin. Love would transform characters from villains into superheroes, so I wondered why it never happened to me. I watched as love turned me into a coward. I became afraid to engage in relationships because it felt that love just left me drained. Soon love became equated to pain and fear. In attempts to avoid all that I was afraid off, I became drawn to it. I became addicted to abusive relationships because in my mind love was not beautifuland freeing, but drowning and suffocating.
And then my nephew was born. I looked at the little not that I was told looked like me, and my heart was overwhelmed. The thought of his existence brought tears to my eyes. I felt the need to protect him, shelter him from the world, and give him everything I never received. I dreamt of making his world perfect, I’m hoped he would never long for anything. I looked at this little man, that didn’t know my name and had nothing to offer me, and I loved him. And I’m that moment I realised that love was not what I thought it was. Love did not mean being weak, it meant being strong. Love was healing because it showed that it was okay to be you, even in moments when you feel undeserving. A new born baby taught me that love was not like that in the movies, it surpassed it.
My Moses (what I call my nephew) led me into the promised land that is love. His birth opened the doors of my ability to receive the love that is healing, positive and radiant. I became to be open to people that were able and willing to help me grow in my weaknesses, and compliment me in my strengths. It remains scary. Scary to think that people love me for who I am and nothing more. Their love has healed areas I thought forever broken and softened feelings that I thought forever frozen.
Today I’m blessed. I am surrounded by people that are open and willing to love. Love feels good.