I just want to be loved. Yes, I love myself; I think I’m fucking fly! I can still pull the attention of dudes. My friends think I complete our circle of baddies. But, I just want to be loved.
I want to be told it’s ok if after 3 children my stomach is a little pudgy and soft. I want to be assured that “Damn, you look good” when I put on that little black dress for date night. I want to be kissed. I want to be touched. I want my hair to be played in.
It’s missing. It’s missing from the one person I want to give it to me most. Summer Walker “Girls Need Love” keeps playing on repeat in my head. And, “Honesty, I’m trying to stay focused.”
an act of traveling from one place to another:
Middle English: from Old French jornee ‘day, a day’s travel, a day’s work’ (the earliest senses in English), based on Latin diurnum ‘daily portion,’ from diurnus (see diurnal).
As the end of this year ends and a new year begins, people often reflect. We hear about new plans, resolutions, changes that people desire to make to enhance their lives.
When I think about this time and about my life, I think of my journey. Over the past two years I have experienced some very rough patches in my life — with my mental health, in my marriage, in my family. I have dealt with depression; anxiety; thyroid tumor and surgery; weight gain; trust, loyalty, love; and death. I started personal cognitive therapy, medication, and couple’s therapy. This time last year, I couldn’t see past the moment. There were times when I wanted to give in and give up. I thought my marriage was going to end. I thought my life was going to end.
After a year of therapy I have gained knowledge, peace, and clarity. The moral of the story here is to never give up…on yourself.