It was nearly 12 years ago that I last allowed my heart to be broken. We had been friends and I foolishly believed that could translate into a functional and successful long distance relationship. I may have been the only one surprised when it all fell apart.
I promptly picked myself up and pieced my heart back together. I allowed the time it needed to heal properly, without the risk of permanent scarring. I stood on my own two feet and decided to fall for myself. If I couldn’t love me, why the hell would anyone else?
Before I knew it I was in love with the man who would become my husband. I allowed my heart to guide me. I was confident it wouldn’t be wrong. I had worked too hard to love myself to doubt anything.
It was the best decision of my life. Next week, we will celebrate seven years of marriage. 11 and a half years of love. I can honestly say, loving my husband has been the easiest thing I have ever done. It has also been the most fulfilling thing.
That easy love has blossomed into a family. Our daughter. Our love, my faith in my heart, personified. Every time I hear her laugh I am reminded of all the hard work that went into myself. Of all the hours I spent alone, forcing myself to appreciate who I am.
I still struggle sometimes. But when I falter, when I doubt, I look around at the life we created. The life my heart built.
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| ©Lucinda Lovering |
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