I Loved You While I Was Still Learning to Love Myself

Which means

I gave too much.

Apologized too often.

Shrunk to keep you comfortable.

Over-explained my softness.

Overcompensated for my worth.

I wasn’t grounded yet.

I didn’t know what boundaries looked like.

I didn’t understand that real love doesn’t require you to bleed.

So I bled.

Quietly. Repeatedly. Willingly.

And you took it.

Not because you’re cruel.

But because I let you.

Because I didn’t know that love could be kind and reciprocal.

That it didn’t have to hurt to be real.

I know better now.

And loving me now?

Requires more than presence.

It requires care.

It requires depth.

It requires emotional maturity.

I don’t regret loving you.

But I know now—

I wasn’t really loving you.

I was trying to prove I was lovable.

And baby, I already was.

I just didn’t see it yet.

Love,

Afia