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Do you ever have a fantasy of someone who, slow on the uptake, suddenly realizes that he/she doesn’t want to live without you and decides to fight for you? Decides to change to be the person you need him/her to be; the one you had never failed to hope he/she would become? I have one almost everyday. The actors in them change and are never quite believable, but still, I find the fantasies immensely satisfying.

I also think these are terribly harmful fantasies, especially because some not-so-teeny-tiny part of me hopes that one day the fantasy will come true. They perpetuate a false hope. And, they arise from the part of me who can’t yet comprehend my own worth. They are the wish that what I can’t quite give to myself will be magically delivered to me, cradled in someone else’s palms. When he/she comes back to me, then I will know that I am loved. I am asking someone to prove to me, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that I am loveable. It is an impossible demand. And, I don’t know how to stop making it.

I have all the proof I should need already in my life. I have the most amazing friends and family who love me unconditionally. I share with few of them my deepest shame, and they let me know, time and again, that I am deserving only of love. It has never been enough.

Ultimately, there is nothing anyone can do or say to make me believe. It is something I have to discover for myself. This is my work. It is the source of my hope and my grief. It is the reason why I write these posts every night. I want to be free of the fantasies. I want to rest in the comfort of knowing I am good enough exactly as I am. I want to know, in the lightest and darkest depths of me, that I am loveable. I want to carry this truth inside my own heart.

I want this more than anything right now, and still, it scares me to consider letting all the rest of it go. There is a part of me, even as I write this, who wants to grab onto the fantasies for just a little while longer. Who finds comfort in them. I want someone else to do the work for me. It seems like it would be so much easier if someone would. And, no one can.