To Love Herself

She didn't understand love, not really. She saw the love between parents and their children in movies, and it didn't fit. She had chased her biological father for love he wouldn't or couldn't give her, too wrapped up in the haze of drugs and alcohol to see his little girl.

With her adopted father, she tried to be perfect. Surely if she was perfect, he would love and accept her. No more chasing after it. She realized later he showed love through providing for his family, but the little girl who hid behind perfection really wanted to be seen.

With her mom, she always felt unsure. Mom was vibrant and told stories about her childhood that sounded like so much fun! But she couldn't do those things, she'd pushed away who she was to become 'perfect', so she started to feel disconnected from her mom.

In romantic relationships, if one would call them that, she gave and gave, molding herself into what she thought her partners wanted, all in the hope she would be wanted and loved. Instead, as her identity disappeared, so did the fleeting feelings of being wanted. Never did she feel loved.

When her mom died, her light leeched away over the years by MS, she lost both her parents. Dad couldn't cope, she needed to be there for him. He made his grief seem like so much more than hers and so she did what she always did - she took care of him and not herself. It'll be my turn soon, she thought, but it wasn't. Dad gave up his business, moved on with someone new, and moved away.

And she? She became numb, unable to process her grief, unable to love the person who needed it most - herself.

She didn't understand how to love herself. The people who should have taught her how to do so, hadn't. She knew she wanted to be loved, but she'd built such tall walls to protect herself from being hurt and disappointed yet again.

Friends and family pushed hard against those walls and cracks started to appear. There was something shimmering through them that was beautiful and warm.

"Love yourself first," she heard softly, not with her ears but with her heart.

"How? What does that even mean?" she whispered back, fear strangling her voice.

"Love yourself; care for yourself. You matter"

"I'm afraid I'll fail."

"You won't. You know how to take care of others, do that for yourself. What do you need?"

Timidly she replied "light."

"Go for a walk, the sun is shining. Let it be the light you need."

So, she did, basking in the warmth and light, feeling it tingling on her skin.

"What do you need?" the voice asked again.

"Color."

"So go color. Your nephews aren't the only ones allowed to color. You can as well."

And she did, coloring a unicorn in a vibrant green with a white mane and a golden horn, just like her favorite toy from childhood.

"What do you need?"

"To be hugged."

"Hug yourself now, then go ask your brother for one."

"I can't. He'll think its stupid I'm asking for a hug." She wrapped her arms tightly around herself.

"No, he won't. He loves you - always has. And he wants to hug you, too."

This scared her. What she needed up until now, she had provided for herself. What if she was rejected? What if the voice was wrong?

"Be brave." A pause. "You need a hug?"

She shook her head yes, crying. "I do need a hug."

"Be brave. Ask."

So she went to her brother, terrified he would say no or laugh at her, but wanting to love herself by asking for what she needed.

"Brother, may I have a hug?" she asked in a small voice.

"Of course, chica," and he enveloped her in his arms, holding her for as long as she needed.

And she stood there, letting in the love he had for her, a beautiful companion to the growing love she had for herself.

There are no wants or demands or feeling like I can't be me, she realized; there was acceptance, and not just by her brother. She was beginning to accept herself.

She gave her brother a squeeze, then stepped back, smiling for what felt like the first time in a long time. "I needed that, thank you."

He smiled back. "Anytime."

"See?" the voice exclaimed, "You can be brave! It'll take practice to become more familiar and comfortable with it, but that's okay. Love you first; when you do, it shines out from you and grows. Others feel it and will reflect it back to you, but the love you have for yourself will always shine the brightest."

"Thank you," she said to herself, hugging herself and smiling. "Thank you for not giving up on me."

"I never will."