My loves...
There is something I have been wanting to talk about for a while because I think almost every single one of us, in one way or another, has walked through this part of life.
Relationships have a funny way of becoming mirrors. Sometimes they don’t just reflect the love we have. Sometimes they reflect the parts of ourselves that are still waiting to heal.
Without realizing it, many of us choose relationships that almost feel familiar. Not because they’re always healthy, but because they resemble something inside us that still hasn’t found peace. Then, after enough disappointment, enough heartbreak, enough nights wondering what we did wrong, we begin building walls. We convince ourselves that maybe relationships just aren’t for us. Maybe we’ll only repeat the same story again.
But here’s what I’ve learned, my loves.
Every single day you are changing.
Every experience reshapes you. Every lesson softens one part of you while strengthening another. The version of you that was hurt years ago isn’t the exact same person standing here today.
Yet the world has a way of whispering something entirely different.
It tells us that before we deserve real love, we must first become perfect.
We need the perfect career.
The perfect body.
The perfect home.
The perfect finances.
The perfect confidence.
The perfect healing.
The perfect everything.
As though love is some reward handed out only after we’ve successfully completed every lesson life has ever given us.
But the universe doesn’t always work that way.
Sometimes the universe places love in front of you before you feel ready.
Sometimes it arrives while you’re still healing.
Sometimes it arrives while you’re still afraid.
Not because it’s trying to punish you—but because it’s quietly asking one question:
“Can you finally see your own worth?”
Or will you push it away because you still believe you haven’t earned it?
That, my loves, is one of the hardest lessons I’ve ever had to learn.
I’ve always been a hopeless romantic. I think anyone who’s read enough of my writing probably already knows that. My head has always lived somewhere between reality and possibility. I have a very big heart.
Maybe sometimes... too big.
I’ve had to learn through family, friendships, and relationships that I often gave so much of myself that eventually I couldn’t even find where I had gone.
I would pour.
And pour.
And pour.
Until one day I found myself sitting on the floor wondering why I kept ending up empty.
It wasn’t because I wasn’t lovable.
It wasn’t because I wasn’t enough.
It was because somewhere along the way I had confused loving someone with abandoning myself.
Those are not the same thing.
Then we look around us.
We see couples smiling in photographs.
We watch little moments online.
We imagine how wonderful someone else’s relationship must be.
But, my loves, we’re only seeing the outside.
The photograph doesn’t tell us what happens after the front door closes.
It doesn’t show who carries every responsibility.
Who cooks every meal.
Who cleans every room.
Who quietly cries in the shower.
Who reaches for affection and is met with silence.
Who slowly begins believing that asking for love somehow became asking for too much.
Sometimes people look like they have everything.
And yet behind closed doors they feel completely unseen.
That illusion is dangerous because we begin comparing our reality to someone else’s performance.
Then comes the shame.
We stand in front of the mirror picking ourselves apart.
Maybe if I lost weight...
Maybe if I made more money...
Maybe if I stopped asking for affection...
Maybe if I became easier...
Maybe if I needed less...
Maybe then...
Maybe then I’d finally be loved.
But my loves...
No.
You are not “too much” because you desire kindness.
You are not needy because you want affection.
You are not unreasonable because you want consistency.
You are not difficult because you want someone who chooses you every single day.
Those aren’t impossible expectations.
They’re simply your needs.
And there is nothing shameful about having needs.
One of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do was admit that I loved someone...
...while also admitting I wasn’t happy.
Those two things can exist together.
You can care deeply for someone while recognizing that your heart is slowly disappearing inside the relationship.
Walking away is never easy.
Sometimes it’s peaceful.
Sometimes it isn’t.
Sometimes the other person understands.
Sometimes they never will.
But regardless of how they respond, you still have the opportunity to leave with integrity.
To tell the truth kindly.
To stand up for yourself without becoming someone you’re not.
Because every time you choose yourself, you’re teaching your heart something new.
You’re teaching it that its voice matters.
Then comes another season.
The quiet one.
The season where you’re alone.
And that can be terrifying.
Because now there’s nobody distracting you from yourself.
You begin wondering whether opening your heart again is worth the risk.
What if they hurt me too?
What if it’s the same story?
What if I end up right back here?
My loves...
The next person isn’t your past.
And neither are you.
Healing isn’t pretending the pain never happened.
Healing is becoming so deeply rooted in your own worth that even if someone leaves, misunderstands you, or cannot meet you where you are, you no longer question your value because of it.
You don’t stop loving.
You simply stop abandoning yourself in order to be loved.
That changes everything.
The validation you spend your entire life searching for outside of yourself eventually becomes something you quietly create within.
And when that happens, something beautiful shifts.
You stop looking for someone to complete you.
Instead, you begin looking for someone who recognizes the completeness that was already there.
Someone who doesn’t become your identity.
Someone who walks beside you.
Whether you become someone’s friend...
Someone’s daughter...
Someone’s father...
Someone’s mother...
Someone’s husband...
Someone’s wife...
Someone’s boyfriend or girlfriend...
Remember this, my loves.
They are not the reason you are whole.
They never were.
Without them...
You are still you.
Still worthy.
Still enough.
Still beautiful.
Still complete.
And when love finally arrives—not because you earned it, but because you finally believed you deserved it—you’ll realize something that was true all along.
The universe was never asking you to become perfect before receiving love.
It was simply waiting for the moment you stopped believing you had to earn what your heart was always worthy of receiving.
Love Your Silvia ❤️