03/28/2026
You may believe that you were not loved as you should have been loved. You may hold a history of a difficult mother, a distant or violent father, or a home where you felt unseen, unsafe, or unworthy.
I do not deny your experience. But I am here to invite you into another perspective:
What you have known as absence has been interpreted through the lens of separation.
And you have learned, through that lens, to believe that love is something given or withheld by another.
And I would like to teach you otherwise.
You are not here to be made worthy of love.
You are here as love.
And what you have called a lack has served you in a particular way. It has brought you to a threshold, a place where you may begin to realize that what you seek cannot be sourced outside of you.
This is not to justify what occurred.
It is to reclaim you from it.
Because as long as you believe that another was the source of what you needed, you will continue to look outward for what can only be known within.
You may have known pain. You may have known fear. You may have known the confusion of not being met, not being held, not being seen.
And yet, here you are.
And I’d like to say this to you: you are not the sum of what you were given or denied.
You are the one who can now choose to know yourself anew.
The love you seek is not elsewhere.
It has not been taken from you.
It has only been unrecognized.
And as you begin to turn toward yourself, not to fix, not to repair, but to witness and to allow, you begin to realize that love is not something you must earn.
It is something you are.
And what you are cannot be withheld from you, only obscured by what you have been taught to believe.
So I invite you now to release the idea that your past has defined your capacity to love or be loved.
And to begin, gently, to know yourself as the source.
As the field in which love is present.
As the one who, even now, can choose to remember that you are IT.
