17/02/2026
You’ve done the work.
You left what no longer honoured you.
You moved through the grief.
You faced parts of yourself you had been silencing for years.
And in that grief, you didn’t just lose a relationship.
You reclaimed yourself.
You reclaimed the voice you used to swallow.
The needs you used to minimise.
The boundaries you were once afraid to set.
You worked hard for that.
And still…
You long.
Not for someone to complete you.
But for connection.
Depth.
Shared presence.
And that longing is tender.
Because when you open now,
you’re not just risking heartbreak.
You’re risking the parts of you
you fought to bring back online.
So when someone new arrives —
when you feel warmth, possibility, that subtle spark ...
your body tightens.
You check your phone.
You replay conversations.
You notice yourself softening your truth mid-sentence.
You feel the old pull to over-function
or withdraw before it matters too much.
Not because you’re weak or too needy.
But because caring activates attachment history.
And attachment history once taught you that shrinking kept you safe.
So here is the moment.
You feel something land wrong.
You feel the tightening in your throat.
You know there’s something you could say.
If you speak up,
you might feel the shift.
You might feel them pull back.
You might feel the space widen.
But if you smooth it over again,
if you tell yourself it’s not a big deal,
if you prioritise preserving the connection…
You feel the distance inside yourself.
And you’ve already lived that version of love.