The Love We Were Taught to Chase and the Love We Were Meant to Become
Getty Images: Getty Images: Focus Pixel Art
There is a version of love many of us were taught to believe in.
Not always explicitly.
Not always in words.
But in what we watched.
What we survived.
What we longed for.
A love that feels like arrival.
A love that fixes.
A love that finally makes everything make sense.
For many women, especially Black women, who have carried generations of strength, sacrifice, and survival. This vision of love can become something even deeper: a quiet promise that one day, we will be held in ways we have always had to hold ourselves.
And so we learn to hope for it.
To prepare for it.
To wait for it.
But rarely are we invited to question it.
The Fantasy We Don't Always Name
What we often call "standards" or "desires" in love can sometimes be something more subtle: a kind of magical thinking.
Not fantasy in a naive sense, but in a deeply human one.
We imagine:
That the right person will understand us without explanation
That love will feel like ease more than effort
That pain will finally soften in the presence of the "right" partner
That joy can exist without grief
That being chosen will quiet the parts of us that have never felt enough
These expectations are not random. They are shaped.
By what we saw growing up.
By what was missing.
By what we needed and didn't receive.
By how we learned to protect ourselves from pain.
We don't just want love.
We want relief.
And there is nothing wrong with that.
But when we ask another person to deliver what only we can cultivate, we set ourselves up for a kind of heartbreak that feels really personal!
Because life does not submit to fantasy.
And neither do people.
When Love Doesn't Look Like the Dream
Many of us have felt this moment.
You meet someone who should be right.
Or you stay longer than you should.
Or you give more than you have.
And somewhere along the way, frustration builds.
Not just with them.
But with the quiet question underneath it all:
Why isn't this working the way it's supposed to?
That question can turn inward.
We start to wonder:
Did I choose wrong?
Am I asking for too much?
Is something wrong with me?
And slowly, almost invisibly, the narrative shifts.
From this isn't aligned
to
I must have failed.
The Failure We Don't Talk About
But what if the deepest pain isn't that someone else didn't love us the right way?
What if the pain is that, somewhere along the way, we abandoned ourselves in the process?
We overextended.
We overexplained.
We overlooked our own needs.
We stayed when clarity was asking us to leave.
Not because we are weak.
But because we were trying to make something real out of something we were taught to believe should work.
And when it doesn't, it can feel like failure.
Not just of the relationship.
But of ourselves.
A Different Question About Love
What if we asked a different question?
Not:
Why hasn't love worked out for me?
But:
What if love was never something I was meant to find... but something I was meant to build within myself first?
This is not about giving up on partnership.
It's about redefining the foundation.
Because when love begins within:
Dating becomes discernment, not desperation
Choosing becomes clarity, not compromise
Pouring into others no longer comes at the cost of abandoning yourself
Growth is not dependent on someone else's readiness
Healing is not postponed until you are "met" by the right person
You are no longer waiting for love to begin your life.
You are living from it.
What Self-Love Actually Looks Like
Self-love is often reduced to surface-level care.
But in practice, it can look like:
Telling yourself the truth, even when it disrupts the story you wanted
Honoring your limits, not just your capacity to endure
Letting go of connections that require you to shrink
Being willing to sit with loneliness without rushing to fill it
Choosing yourself before you are chosen by someone else
It is not always soft.
Sometimes it is firm.
Sometimes it is inconvenient.
Sometimes it asks you to walk away from what you hoped would work.
But it is always honest
This Love Story That Changes Everything
There is still room for partnership.
Still room for connection.
Still room for joy.
But when you are no longer asking someone else to complete what you have not yet claimed within yourself, love becomes something different.
Not a rescue.
Not a reward.
Not a resolution to pain.
But a reflection.
Of who you have become.
Of what you now recognize.
Of what you will no longer negotiate.
This Month, A Gentle Invitation
Mental Health Month is often about awareness.
But awareness is only the beginning.
The deeper work is integration.
So here is a quiet invitation:
Before asking who is right for you,
ask how you are showing up for yourself.
Before questioning why love hasn't stayed,
ask where you may have left yourself behind.
Because the most enduring love story you will ever live
is not the one where someone finally chooses you.
It is the one where, over and over again,
you learn to choose yourself.
Not always explicitly.
Not always in words.
But in what we watched.
What we survived.
What we longed for.
A love that feels like arrival.
A love that fixes.
A love that finally makes everything make sense.
For many women, especially Black women, who have carried generations of strength, sacrifice, and survival. This vision of love can become something even deeper: a quiet promise that one day, we will be held in ways we have always had to hold ourselves.
And so we learn to hope for it.
To prepare for it.
To wait for it.
But rarely are we invited to question it.
The Fantasy We Don't Always Name
What we often call "standards" or "desires" in love can sometimes be something more subtle: a kind of magical thinking.
Not fantasy in a naive sense, but in a deeply human one.
We imagine:
That the right person will understand us without explanation
That love will feel like ease more than effort
That pain will finally soften in the presence of the "right" partner
That joy can exist without grief
That being chosen will quiet the parts of us that have never felt enough
These expectations are not random. They are shaped.
By what we saw growing up.
By what was missing.
By what we needed and didn't receive.
By how we learned to protect ourselves from pain.
We don't just want love.
We want relief.
And there is nothing wrong with that.
But when we ask another person to deliver what only we can cultivate, we set ourselves up for a kind of heartbreak that feels really personal!
Because life does not submit to fantasy.
And neither do people.
When Love Doesn't Look Like the Dream
Many of us have felt this moment.
You meet someone who should be right.
Or you stay longer than you should.
Or you give more than you have.
And somewhere along the way, frustration builds.
Not just with them.
But with the quiet question underneath it all:
Why isn't this working the way it's supposed to?
That question can turn inward.
We start to wonder:
Did I choose wrong?
Am I asking for too much?
Is something wrong with me?
And slowly, almost invisibly, the narrative shifts.
From this isn't aligned
to
I must have failed.
The Failure We Don't Talk About
But what if the deepest pain isn't that someone else didn't love us the right way?
What if the pain is that, somewhere along the way, we abandoned ourselves in the process?
We overextended.
We overexplained.
We overlooked our own needs.
We stayed when clarity was asking us to leave.
Not because we are weak.
But because we were trying to make something real out of something we were taught to believe should work.
And when it doesn't, it can feel like failure.
Not just of the relationship.
But of ourselves.
A Different Question About Love
What if we asked a different question?
Not:
Why hasn't love worked out for me?
But:
What if love was never something I was meant to find... but something I was meant to build within myself first?
This is not about giving up on partnership.
It's about redefining the foundation.
Because when love begins within:
Dating becomes discernment, not desperation
Choosing becomes clarity, not compromise
Pouring into others no longer comes at the cost of abandoning yourself
Growth is not dependent on someone else's readiness
Healing is not postponed until you are "met" by the right person
You are no longer waiting for love to begin your life.
You are living from it.
What Self-Love Actually Looks Like
Self-love is often reduced to surface-level care.
But in practice, it can look like:
Telling yourself the truth, even when it disrupts the story you wanted
Honoring your limits, not just your capacity to endure
Letting go of connections that require you to shrink
Being willing to sit with loneliness without rushing to fill it
Choosing yourself before you are chosen by someone else
It is not always soft.
Sometimes it is firm.
Sometimes it is inconvenient.
Sometimes it asks you to walk away from what you hoped would work.
But it is always honest
This Love Story That Changes Everything
There is still room for partnership.
Still room for connection.
Still room for joy.
But when you are no longer asking someone else to complete what you have not yet claimed within yourself, love becomes something different.
Not a rescue.
Not a reward.
Not a resolution to pain.
But a reflection.
Of who you have become.
Of what you now recognize.
Of what you will no longer negotiate.
This Month, A Gentle Invitation
Mental Health Month is often about awareness.
But awareness is only the beginning.
The deeper work is integration.
So here is a quiet invitation:
Before asking who is right for you,
ask how you are showing up for yourself.
Before questioning why love hasn't stayed,
ask where you may have left yourself behind.
Because the most enduring love story you will ever live
is not the one where someone finally chooses you.
It is the one where, over and over again,
you learn to choose yourself.
