Jesus. We really are soul sisters. I could’ve written this (aside from mom dying when I was 4). But, dude, yeah. Conditional love, was any of it real? Was I just dumb to trust? I get it.
And Stevie Nicks sings with an eerie desperation and I am here for it. Every time. Every song.
Soul sisters for sure. And yes, the “was any of it real?” part is the worst. I hate that so many of us understand that feeling, but I am glad Im not alone in it. And Stevie’s eerie desperation is exactly it. Every time. She sounds like she gets it.
This is such a heartbreaking and honest reflection. The idea that love can be real and still not be enough to keep someone here, that really stayed with me. And I love that after everything, you still choose to believe in love. That's a beautiful kind of resilience
Thank you so much. I really appreciate this, and all the help you’ve already given me. That idea, that love can be real and still not be enough to keep someone here, is the part that stayed with me too. Somehow, after everything, I still want to believe in it!
I still believe in love, though far less innocently than I once did. Your mother’s death did not make her love unreal; it revealed that love cannot protect us from mortality. What came later was different: people choosing to make affection conditional upon usefulness, silence, obedience, or ease. Much of what calls itself love is possession, dependency, fear, or bargain spoken in love’s vocabulary. I no longer accept the declaration as evidence.
Love worth the name must be recognised partly by what it refuses to do: turn care into leverage, generosity into debt, need into shame, or another person’s freedom into betrayal. Perhaps belief after disillusion is not certainty. It is simply the refusal to let the counterfeits define the real.
Sara, this is such a thoughtful response. I keep coming back to what you said about refusing to let the counterfeits define the real. That feels right, thats what believing in love looks like for me now, not innocence or certainty, but learning to recognize what love is not and still refusing to give up on what it can be. Thank you for taking this so seriously and meeting me so deeply in it.
This one stayed with me because it doesn't ask us to believe that love never wounds us. It asks whether we're willing to keep believing after it does.
The line "I thought love meant I was safe. Apparently, it doesn't. But somehow, I still believe in love." carries so much quiet courage. It's easy to believe in love before loss. Believing after illusion has shattered is something entirely different. Thank you for writing with such honesty.
Thank you so much. I’m so glad it stayed with you! “Quiet courage” got me. That’s exactly what it feels like, not certainty, just choosing not to give up on love completely. I really appreciate this.
Jesus. We really are soul sisters. I could’ve written this (aside from mom dying when I was 4). But, dude, yeah. Conditional love, was any of it real? Was I just dumb to trust? I get it.
And Stevie Nicks sings with an eerie desperation and I am here for it. Every time. Every song.
Soul sisters for sure. And yes, the “was any of it real?” part is the worst. I hate that so many of us understand that feeling, but I am glad Im not alone in it. And Stevie’s eerie desperation is exactly it. Every time. She sounds like she gets it.
Yes! Know who else gets me? Leonard Cohen. Nick Cave. Billy Corgan. Micheal Stipe. All these INFJs just see me.
This is such a heartbreaking and honest reflection. The idea that love can be real and still not be enough to keep someone here, that really stayed with me. And I love that after everything, you still choose to believe in love. That's a beautiful kind of resilience
Thank you so much. I really appreciate this, and all the help you’ve already given me. That idea, that love can be real and still not be enough to keep someone here, is the part that stayed with me too. Somehow, after everything, I still want to believe in it!
I still believe in love, though far less innocently than I once did. Your mother’s death did not make her love unreal; it revealed that love cannot protect us from mortality. What came later was different: people choosing to make affection conditional upon usefulness, silence, obedience, or ease. Much of what calls itself love is possession, dependency, fear, or bargain spoken in love’s vocabulary. I no longer accept the declaration as evidence.
Love worth the name must be recognised partly by what it refuses to do: turn care into leverage, generosity into debt, need into shame, or another person’s freedom into betrayal. Perhaps belief after disillusion is not certainty. It is simply the refusal to let the counterfeits define the real.
Sara, this is such a thoughtful response. I keep coming back to what you said about refusing to let the counterfeits define the real. That feels right, thats what believing in love looks like for me now, not innocence or certainty, but learning to recognize what love is not and still refusing to give up on what it can be. Thank you for taking this so seriously and meeting me so deeply in it.
Thank you for writing:)
This one stayed with me because it doesn't ask us to believe that love never wounds us. It asks whether we're willing to keep believing after it does.
The line "I thought love meant I was safe. Apparently, it doesn't. But somehow, I still believe in love." carries so much quiet courage. It's easy to believe in love before loss. Believing after illusion has shattered is something entirely different. Thank you for writing with such honesty.
Thank you so much. I’m so glad it stayed with you! “Quiet courage” got me. That’s exactly what it feels like, not certainty, just choosing not to give up on love completely. I really appreciate this.