They’ll tell you that self-love is the best love because no one can love you like you love yourself. The problem is, for all our talk about self-love, no one is teaching us how to do it. There is no e-book on how to learn to love yourself. How to view yourself as beautiful. How to see yourself as worthy. How to be gentle with your very being. No, they don’t teach you that. And if they did, I’d be a little wary anyway. Seems to me like something you’ve just got to learn to do. Shoes you learn to fill. A feeling you grow into.
So, sometimes, instead of loving yourself for yourself by yourself, the love of someone else for you, teaches you what love looks like. What loving you has the capacity to do. What loving you should feel like.
I know you’re not supposed to make homes out of human beings. But how could I not fall in love with the glint in his eyes and way he held me at night? A blip in time. Fresh start. Rebirth. Renewal. Reset. Pheonix, arising. Awakening? Him allowing me to see myself through his eyes is what made me whole again.
How was I supposed to stop myself from engaging? How come no one ever taught me how to love myself without looking for myself in the eyes of those I love(d)? Taught me to recognize how I feel outside of their touch? I never learned to laugh at my own jokes. Always needed them to laugh first so I knew they were funny.
Except, eventually, the laughter faded, touch went away, and eyes closed, leaving me with no one but myself. No reflection to interrogate myself through. No image of myself to emulate. Just left with a blueprint for love I thought we were building together. Except, the house collapsed when he left and somehow brought me down with it. Dazed. Confused. Something I didn’t think love would do.
How the hell was I supposed to detach from you?
I still cry sometimes. For me, you, we, us, her, the girl I was when we were still us. I cry because I love her. Cry because I know she knew no better. Hadn’t yet learned how to be always hers – both when, and when not, someone else’s.
for when the love teaches you to love yourself.
teaches you you’re worthy.
teaches you what good feels, looks, smells, tastes, IS like.
teaches you how to see the light in your eyes and curves of your hips.
teaches you not only the power of your intellect, but that you are an experience.
teaches you how to be careful with yourself – to give yourself some grace.
teaches you that it’s okay to make a home WITH a human being, instead of making a home OUT of one. and reminds you, to always keep a room in the house as a space just for you. a bunker of sorts. place for you to go when it rains or if it all comes crashing down. sharing keys, but no longer giving yourself away.
because sometimes, the only path to self-love that you can figure out, just happens to pass through someone else.