Dear Universe,
I want to love better.
Not perfectly,
I've let go of perfect,
But better.
With presence,
With patience,
With a kind of steadiness that doesn't disappear the moment things get hard.
Because if I'm honest,
I know the places where I fall short.
I know what it looks like when I close off,
Instead of leaning in.
When I get defensive instead of curious.
When old wounds speak louder than the person standing right in front of me.
And I react to a ghost instead of a human being.
I've hurt people I loved.
Not always loudly.
Sometimes just by being somewhere else inside myself.
When they needed me to stay.
And I carry that.
So today I'm asking not to be made perfect.
To be made a little more aware.
A little more honest.
A little more willing to pause before I protect myself at someone else's expense.
When I feel triggered.
Help me remember that the feeling is real but the story I tell myself in that moment might not be.
Help me slow down just enough to ask.
Is this now or is this old?
Is this them?
Or is this me?
Teach me to love through the hard moments.
Not just the easy ones.
Because easy love doesn't need to learn anything.
It's the love that stays when I'm afraid.
When I'm tired,
When I'm convinced I'm about to be abandoned.
That's the love.
I want to grow.
Help me to love without keeping score.
Without shrinking myself to keep the peace or expanding my walls to feel safe.
Help me find a middle place,
You know,
Where I can be both open and grounded.
Both giving and whole.
Show me how to receive love too,
Because I know that's where I sometimes go quiet.
Where I deflect or dismiss or decide I don't quite believe it or deserve it.
Just teach me to let love land.
To let it stay.
To trust that I don't have to earn it every single day.
And when I get it wrong,
When I react instead of respond.
You know when I pull away instead of reaching out Just let me be gentle with myself.
Not as an excuse,
But because shame has never taught anyone how to love better.
Only compassion does that.
And I am still learning.
And I am willing.
And that has to count for something,
Right?
So guide me,
Guide me in the small moments.
And the quiet ones.
And the ones that sneak up on me when I least expect it.
And remind me that every interaction is a chance to practice.
Every relationship.
A teacher.
I don't want to be someone who loved carefully from a distance.
I want to be someone who loved fully.
Even knowing it was risky.
Even knowing it might hurt.
Even when my history told me to run.
Let me be that kind of brave.
And let me choose love anyway.
Amen.
