“I Want to Love Without Disappearing”

I want to love

without softening my voice

so you can hear yourself louder.

I want to be chosen

without auditioning.

I want love that doesn’t ask me

to explain the shape of my scars

before it believes I bled.

I want to stand next to someone

and still be seen.

Not as an accessory.

Not as a stepping stone.

Not as a woman who made him “better.”

But as a whole storm,

uncontained.

Too many of us were taught

that love is compromise.

But what they meant was

compromising yourself.

Give him grace.

Give him time.

Give him space to grow.

Give him everything—

just don’t expect him to hold it.

I have learned

to hold my own hand

before extending it.

To ask:

Do I feel safe here?

Or just familiar in my self-abandonment?

To remember

that “not hitting me”

is not a love language.

I don’t want

half-grown apologies

and full-bodied excuses.

I want tenderness

that isn’t terrified of accountability.

I want love

that does not buckle under

my fullness.

Because I am not a lesson.

I am not a detour.

I am not here

to be the character arc

in someone else’s awakening.

I want to love

with my eyes open,

my voice intact,

my boundaries respected.

I want to say “yes”

without erasing myself.

And if I must choose

between shrinking for closeness

or expanding in solitude—

I will always choose

to stay whole.