Loving Someone Who Doesn’t Choose You

There is a different kind of heartbreak when you love someone and they simply do not love you the same way. No betrayal. No chaos. Just imbalance.

Two months can be enough. Sometimes you know quickly. Sometimes your body recognizes something your mind is still catching up to. I loved him deeply in those two months. Not fantasy. Not projection. I felt it in my bones. I felt honored to meet his family. Honored to be let into his inner world. So I said it. I said I love you.

And he pulled away.

Not cruel. Not dramatic. Just distance. A phone call. Then a text. “I think I need more space.”

Space can mean many things. But what it felt like was this: I am not sure about you.

That stings in a very specific way. It is not rejection of who you are. It is uncertainty about whether you belong in someone’s future. And I refuse to beg for belonging.

So I said, okay. And I walked away.

Not because it didn’t hurt. It did. I was confused. I questioned if there was still love for someone before me. If there wasn’t room for me. If I had overwhelmed him with the depth that comes naturally to me.

But here is what I know about myself.

The love I bring does not waver. It does not question. It does not half-choose. When I love, it is steady. It is intentional. It does not scan the room for something better. It does not lust outside the bond. It seeks the person in front of me. It values them. It protects them. It cares deeply and consistently.

My love is not loud. It is rooted.

I am not looking to be tolerated. I am not looking to be someone’s almost. I want to be peace in someone’s nervous system. I want to be clarity, not confusion. I want someone who feels grounded with me, not overwhelmed by my presence.

If someone is questioning you, that is your answer.

In my 29 years, I have learned this: when they hesitate, walk away. If they truly see you, they will not let you disappear quietly. They will call. They will come. They will make it clear.

And if they do not, it is not because you were not enough. It is because you were not theirs.

I am proud that I said I love you even knowing he might pull back. I am proud that I did not play cool. I am proud that I let someone experience being cared for without games. That matters. Even if it did not last.

He is now building a life with someone else. A child on the way. And there is no bitterness in me. Only hope. I hope he found the love he was searching for. I hope it blossoms into something steady and real. Because when you have loved someone sincerely, you do not wish them harm. You release them with grace.

Sometimes you also lose the family. And that carries its own ache. You imagine holidays. Dinners. Shared history. Then it dissolves before it ever roots. It is a quiet grief. Loving not only the person but the possibility.

Maybe he needed guidance outside of us. That is his path. I do not need anyone to tell me who I love. I trust myself now.

I know what I am seeking. Marriage. Children. Depth. Intention. I am not interested in drifting. We are either building toward something real or we are not.

Loving someone who does not choose you is not failure. It is refinement. It teaches you to stand in your worth without shrinking. It teaches you to walk away before you become someone’s backup plan.

I will never be the backburner. I will never audition for permanence.

If you want me, stand beside me.

If you hesitate, I will bless you and go.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

I Was Never Taught How to Be Healthy

​ 2 years ago, after coming back from Mexico, my hair started falling out… not just a little clumps. But the truth is, I had been silently dealing with things in my body long before that. Skin flare-ups, imbalance, discomfort that never fully went away. I went to the doctor, did what I was told, used the creams, followed the steps, trusting that it would work. But it never actually healed anything. It would quiet things down for a season, make it feel manageable, and then it would come right back. No one ever talked to me about my gut, about my nervous system, about my body as a whole living system that needs balance to function. It was always about fixing the symptom, not understanding the root.  As a licensed cosmetologist, I’ve worked closely with products, ingredients, hair, and skin for years, and that’s part of what made this even louder for me. I started to really see what we are surrounded by, what we’re told is safe, normal, necessary. And my body began rejecting it. My sk...
Read more

When Love Is Said But Not Lived

There is a love that is spoken fluently but never lived. It rolls off the tongue like scripture. It sounds devoted. It sounds sacred. But it is hollow. It has no embodiment. No sacrifice. No alignment between word and action. Some people fall in love with the sound of themselves loving you. They love the role. The image. The audience. They love being seen as devoted more than they love being devoted. And you feel the fracture immediately. It’s subtle. A glance that lingers too long. A tone that shifts. A defensiveness that rises too quickly. Your body registers it before your mind can explain it. But when you speak, they turn it back on you. You’re insecure. You’re projecting. You’re dramatic. Slowly, your clarity gets labeled as chaos. Gaslighting is not just lying. It is the rewriting of your reality while you are standing inside it. It is being told that what you see is not there. That what you feel is irrational. That your intuition is dangerous. And if you stay long enough, ...
Read more

When “I Love You” Starts Feeling Scary

​ The Last Two Years The last two years have probably been some of the hardest years of my life. Not because life completely fell apart, but because I had to learn how to keep living while carrying heartbreak, disappointment, grief, and fear all at the same time. There is something deeply painful about giving people your full trust, your softness, your honesty, and then having to rebuild yourself afterward when things break. Walking away from what hurts you is not for the weak. People talk about leaving like it’s empowering and freeing, but they don’t always talk about the darkness that follows. The lonely nights. The second guessing. The grief that comes in waves. The moments where your nervous system no longer knows what safety feels like around another human being. I think one of the hardest things for me has been learning how to feel safe with people again. Not just romantic relationships, but people in general. When trust gets broken deeply enough, your body remembers. Your ...
Read more