There are moments when love stops feeling like a fairytale and starts feeling like a reflection — one that shows us the parts of ourselves we’ve tried to hide.
The ones we buried under strength, under survival, under the need to be okay.
Love has a way of holding up the mirror, of whispering, “Look.”
Not to shame or to break us, but to show us where we are still waiting to be healed.
It’s in the quiet moments — when someone reaches for your hand after you’ve pulled away, when they see your tears and stay anyway — that you realize healing doesn’t always come from solitude. Sometimes, it comes from being seen.
When love becomes the mirror, it asks you to face yourself not as you were — bruised and guarded — but as you are becoming: softer, open, still learning.
And in that reflection, you begin to see that you were never unworthy of love…
you were simply learning how to recognize it.
Reading Trauma Mama: Velvet & Taboo 