With Valentine’s Day right around the corner, I can’t help but think about my loves from the past. Not just romantic partners, but friends that I loved deeply as well.
I’m currently in a beautiful, healthy relationship with my partner of two years, and I can’t imagine being treated any other way. It’s given me a standard for how I expect to be loved.
But it wasn’t always like that.
At the peak of my depression, I found myself accepting whatever love I was given to try to fill the void that was in my chest. That meant putting up with emotional abuse, manipulation, gaslighting or whatever other toxic behaviors, just because I thought that’s what love was. That’s what everyone deals with.
Looking back, I let most of my former partners, and even some of my most intimate friends, use me under the guise of love.
After years of poor decision making on my part, I had conditioned myself to think that that type of love was all I deserved. It’s all I was capable of. It’s what I returned, because it was all that I knew.
As I grew as a person and worked on my own well-being, I was able to distinguish genuine love from “fake” love. But still, I kept my distance.
Years later, when I met my current partner, it almost felt like an over correction.
“Here’s a person who’s genuinely nice to me, with no ulterior motives?” I thought, bewildered at the idea. “What’re they trying to get out of this?”
And it turns out, the answer was just love.
It almost felt wrong, being treated like a person deserving of a kind, wholesome love after years of being shown that love was just hurt. And I know too many people who feel they’re in the same boat.
But we shouldn’t refuse love just because we’re damaged. We shouldn’t push others away because we’re scared of the possibilities. We’re deserving of love, too.
It took a while to accept it, to open up, and for love to grow. Thankfully, I had someone who was patient and willing to teach me. Love was not the cure-all to my problems, but a welcome support.
After that, I wasn’t afraid of showing love, whether it was platonic, romantic, or self-love. Love was no longer something that made me feel vulnerable and fragile.
Love is reassurance through anxiety attacks and depressive episodes. Love is a marathon of the 12-disc special extended edition of the Lord of the Rings trilogy. Love is saying, “Text me when you get home safely.” Love is opening up without fear of backlash.
Love is easy.