What Love Isn’t

I replied to an email from my friend, Rachel today about her abusive ex and the new man in her life. I said, “It must be very difficult to love again when love has, so far in your life, taught you that it’s nasty and hurtful?”

Then it hit me . . . I didn’t feel loved as a child or for most of the time that I was with Tom. I was abused, neglected and hurt yet none of the people involved ever actually said they loved me. (Tom used to say it but stopped once we moved in together apart from once.) A childhood spent never being told you’re loved, never being held or kissed is hard and lonely but if they never told me they loved me, then what they did wasn’t love. What I always thought was love, wasn’t.

Even greater is the realisation that I haven’t actually experienced love yet and I’m okay with that because this means that everything I believed to be love, wasn’t, so I have all of that to look forward to. To finally discovering what love is, and not what it isn’t. I know what love isn’t. I’m ready to know what love is. This is liberating.

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