They say love yourself first,as if self were a destinationyou could reach by Tuesday.As if the person sharing your bedshould wait in the lobbywhile you master the artof your own company.
But we're all learning, always—learning to speak kindness as first language,learning to unclench the fist we madein third grade and forgot to open.I'm learning my worthwhile you're learning patience.You're learning to staywhile I'm learning to let you.
Instructions for this love:When they stare at the mirror too long,don't say "you're beautiful."Say "I see you seeing yourself."When they apologize for existing,count it—the third time today—but don't keep score. Keep vigil insteadfor the day apologies turn to announcements:"I took up space today and the world didn't end."
Love them like a garden in transition—some things blooming, some dying back,some seeds that won't show for seasons.Love the stumble in their confidence,the retry in their voice,the seventeen drafts of the textwhere they finally say what they need.
You can't love someone into loving themselves—that's the lie. But you can love someonewhile they're learning how.You can be the safe placewhere they practice being human.You can whisper their namelike it's the answer to a questionthey haven't learned to ask yet.
We're all beginners here.Love accordingly.