To the Woman Who Might One Day Love Me

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To the woman who might one day love me,

You won’t be meeting a blank slate.

You’ll be meeting someone who’s walked through fire—quiet fire. The kind that burns not with drama, but with silence. The kind where you keep showing up in relationships that don’t show up for you. The kind where you keep offering warmth and keep getting cold shoulders, polite smiles, or nothing at all.

You’ll be meeting someone who’s spent years learning what it means to be emotionally available—to myself first. I’ve learned how to sit with shame without collapsing, how to feel fear without running, how to hold grief without letting it swallow me whole. And I’ve learned how to stop offering love as a bargaining chip, hoping it might finally earn me a seat at the table.

But I’m still learning what it means to be loved without effort. To be loved not for what I can provide, or how I make you feel, or how emotionally articulate I am—but just because I’m me. That’s still foreign. Uncomfortable. My body braces when compliments come. My mind questions them. My history doesn’t know how to hold them.

And still—here I am. Practicing. Trying. Letting kindness in, even if it stings a little. Letting connection in, even when it feels unfamiliar.

I might not be the tallest. I might not be lean. But I’m strong—in more ways than one. I’m built like a bear, and sometimes I feel like one. Protective. Soft underneath. Not always sure when to hibernate and when to open the door. But always real.

You won’t need to fix me. I’m not waiting for someone to rescue me. I’ve done that part myself. What I want is not rescue—just resonance. Something mutual. Something safe. Something where we can both exhale.

I don’t show up with a rehearsed script. I show up with presence. If I give you my time, it’s sincere. If I tell you how I feel, it’s the truth. And if I tell you I love you, it won’t be out of fear or habit. It will be because I do.

Maybe we won’t meet soon. Maybe we never will. But if we do—know this:

You’re not meeting someone who needs you to complete him.
You’re meeting someone who’s spent years becoming whole, and is finally ready to meet someone who’s done the same.

And if you’re not quite there yet, that’s okay.
Maybe we’ll walk that part of the path together.

—A.

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