That's not love, it is survival

sometimes, we don't realise we have left ourselves behind,

in the quiet moments of trying to make a relationship work,

we start shrinking, just a little at first,

softening our voice.

hiding our needs.

silencing our pain.

little by little, maybe barely noticeable,

until it's not.

a silent bargain of self-abandonment,

that thrives through our fear stories,

to protect from abandonment by others.

becoming who they need,

even when it costs who we are.

and we settle for crumbs of connection,

for conditional affection,

and we start to believe that love is something earned,

by disappearing, by playing small.

minimising, hiding, to keep attachment safe,

though, love doesn't demand your silence,

to surrender your wholeness,

or an ongoing proof of your worth,

for that's not love, it is survival.

and you deserve to take up space.

to be fully seen.

to be met, not managed,

and to feel always welcome to come home to yourself,

and all the wild and wonderful parts of you