My Lovely,
There is something I keep noticing about the people who find their way to me.
They love deeply. Almost to their own undoing.
They pour themselves into relationships, into people, into work β with a fullness that takes your breath away. And somewhere along the way, that same depth of feeling gets turned into evidence against them. They start to wonder: what is wrong with me, that I love like this? What is wrong with me, that I feel so much? That I keep going back? That I can't seem to just... stop?
I want to offer you a different question.
The writer and psychologist David Bedrick asks something that I find myself returning to again and again:
"What lives in me that isn't allowed to live fully in the outside world?"
Read that again. Let it settle.
Not: what is wrong with me? But: what is alive in me that hasn't been given a place to go?
Because here is what I know to be true: when we love someone far beyond what seems reasonable, when we stay too long, give too much, ache in ways we can't explain β we are not broken. We are carrying something real. Something that wants to live. A capacity for connection, for intimacy, for devotion, that is breathtaking in its power β and that has simply not yet found its right home.
The problem was never that you loved too much.
The problem is that the world β your family, your early relationships, the systems that shaped you β didn't always know what to do with someone who loved like you do. So you learned, slowly and without knowing it, to make yourself smaller. To rein it in. To be ashamed of the very thing that makes you you.
We Make Our Own Magic
I believe we make our own magic. I believe it with everything I have.
But I also believe this: sometimes we need help to wake up to it. Sometimes the magic in us has been buried so long beneath shame and survival and self-doubt that we can't see it anymore. We look in the mirror and see the wound. We don't see the wildness, the warmth, the extraordinary aliveness that was there before anyone told you it was too much.
The shift from what is wrong with me to what is alive in me β that is not a small thing. That is the whole thing. That is the beginning of building a life that actually fits who you are, rather than a life built around managing who you've been told you are.
β¨ This week's practice:
Sit with Bedrick's question. Not as a quick journal prompt, but as a slow inquiry. What lives in me that isn't allowed to live fully in the outside world? What do you feel most ashamed of feeling? What do you love that you've been taught to hide? What version of you only comes out when it is absolutely safe β or when it finally gets too big to contain?
That thing. That is not your wound. That is your magic.
If you're ready to go deeper β
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This is where you stop managing your life and start actually living it.
On your terms. Finally.
I'm rooting for you. Always.
π Em
P.S. Reply and tell me β what is it that lives in you that hasn't been allowed to live fully? I read every single one.
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