Maybe This Is What Care Really Looks Like
June 06, 2025
I’ve spent years projecting mistrust onto women who cared for me. Today, I saw someone clearly — and, for the first time, let her care land.
I feel alive within me today.
Not because everything is perfect.
Not because the pain is gone.
But because I’ve accepted the parts of me I used to reject —
especially the part that struggles to trust women who care.
For a long time, I projected my past onto present moments.
Onto women in positions of power.
Onto people who showed care I couldn’t quite believe in.
It’s not that I didn’t want to trust — it’s that I didn’t know how to receive something that wasn’t attached to control.
But today, something shifted.
In our session, my tutor asked how I was doing.
She asked me in front of the group — and I felt a wave of something rise.
I responded honestly:
“The thing that comes to mind… I don’t want to share in front of a group of people.”
And I think she knew.
Not just that I was holding something heavy,
but that I needed someone to see me — gently, without force.
And that’s exactly what she did.
She didn’t rush in to fix it.
She didn’t make a scene.
But she stayed emotionally attuned — even through the structure of a tutor-student dynamic.
I think she knew it might trigger something in me.
And I think she chose to risk that discomfort — not to provoke me,
but to offer a mirror, to help me see where my wounds still live.
And she did it knowing that, whatever came up, she could hold it.
That… might be the deepest form of care I’ve ever received.
She wears a strong exterior.
Sometimes sharp. Sometimes closed.
But today, I saw the little girl in her — the one who still looks out for people.
I saw the strength she had to become,
and the softness she’s never fully let go of.
I respect her deeply.
And more than that — I appreciate her.
This didn’t erase my wounds.
But it softened them.
It reminded me that not everyone wants something from me.
That some people just see, and stay.
And today, for the first time in a long time, I let someone in.
Maybe this is what care really looks like.
And maybe… I’m ready to receive it.