When we like someone - and really want them to like us back - we sometimes try to be who we think they want us to be. Or who we think they think we already are.
Unfortunately (or fortunately), I've found that this is an imprecise, exhausting, and ultimately unsustainable endeavor - turns out, our true selves are pretty unsquashable, despite our best efforts. Sooner or later, they're going to learn that we have a tendency to flail about in both the kitchen and on the dance floor, or they'll witness that floopy thing our hair does when we first wake up, or they'll have to help hold some of that emotional baggage we've been accumulating and carting around since long before they came around. In other words, they'll inevitably realize that we're just horses running around with strap-ons attached to our heads, pretending to be unicorns. And that's okay.
In fact, maybe that's a good thing - maybe our strange and scarred and dark and rusty bits make us flawed, but also more interesting, funny, empathetic, resilient, thoughtful, and real. They make us human. And maybe when we reveal and embrace ourselves in all of our flawed glory, it in turn makes them feel okay to be human too.
And just maybe, we are more lovable, not in spite of our wobbly bits, but because of them.
Happy Day of Love, everyone. You are so loved, and so worth loving.
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