Differences

Why do we look at differences as something to change,

to dissect, to smooth out until they fit neatly into our view?

Why do we wish so much for someone to fit a mould,

crafted not by their hands, but by the fragile expectations

we’ve curated in our minds of what “perfection” should be?

We hold love to a checklist,

a series of boxes to tick with precision,

forgetting that the essence of connection

isn’t about symmetry.

It isn’t about bending another

until they reflect the image we want to see.

Must someone align so perfectly,

so effortlessly with our whims and projections,

before we deem them worthy of love?

And why do we cling to these stipulations—

these conditions for falling, for staying,

for growing into something bigger than ourselves?

Isn’t it enough to simply show up,

to meet someone where they are,

to feel the resonance or acknowledge the discord

without resentment or manipulation?

I don’t need a mirror of myself.

The thought of loving my own reflection

feels sterile, uninspired.

What I crave is the wild terrain of your soul,

the sharp edges and tender valleys

that remind me of everything I have yet to learn.

Let me love you fully,

not because you are like me,

but because you are not.

Because your differences challenge me,

expand me,

force me to see the world beyond my narrow lens.

We may share visions of the future,

common joys, overlapping dreams—

but you are not me,

and I am not you.

So let’s celebrate that divergence.

Let’s value the spaces between us,

the way our separate paths weave together

to create something wholly unique.

I don’t need you to be just like me.

I need you to be you.

And I promise to love you

through all the changes,

through the days when we are aligned

and the days when we clash.

This is the natural order of things:

to embrace, to learn, to grow.

To hold each other with grace,

knowing that love isn’t about perfection,

but about showing up—raw, real,

and fully ourselves.