Diaries of a Twenty-Six-Year Old Girl

The one thing I wanted most in the world
I decided would be the very thing I could never have.

Since I was a little girl
I prayed to God, begged for a soulmate,
obsessed with the idea of love—
yet somewhere along the way
I unconsciously decided I would never be worthy of it.

Three poisonous patterns formed—

The first: chasing men who did not want me,
obsessing over them until they returned my interest—
and then, as if by instinct, losing desire.

The second: choosing men I could control,
those safe enough to be managed,
those I was never really in love with.

The third: when love finally sparked mutually,
when it could have blossomed,
I sabotaged it—inevitably.

The risk of being truly seen
and potentially rejected
was torture for my nervous system,
and I would never allow myself to be hurt
like I had been in childhood.

I wanted love the way little girls do.
But my body would not allow it—not yet.
Not until I learned to love myself enough
to stop running, stop controlling,
stop breaking before it began.

I had to sit with the wounds
and ask myself: what made me so unlovable?

The truth: I always was.

But being rejected by the two people
who were supposed to love me most
broke something deep inside.

I was misunderstood,
with no one to tell me I was enough—
so I decided to tell myself.

I learned to give that broken piece
the love it deserved.
My worth was my birthright.
I became my own soulmate,
no longer waiting on the conditional love of my parents
or the approval of a stranger.

And for that,
I thank God for showing me, in the end,
that the soulmate I spent my whole life praying for
was the one I became.