I have always been a lover. At times it seemed like my heart could grow in greater capacity than it could handle. The love in my heart attracts people to me; it makes me creative, warm, and inviting. It allows me to connect with others on an intimate level and help them feel and get in tune with their desires.

My aura is bright and shines with confidence, but my love has run amuck throughout my young life. Giving 100% to those only giving me 50% became a common theme. My instinct was always to help and make people better versions of themselves… but at what cost?

This love I possess can be taken advantage of and used against me; this love can be forgotten about and thrown away when the “job” is done and others are through with me. I was constantly hurting myself in the long run. Whether it be by friends, lovers, or even family members, it seemed as though my love always came with an overwhelming emotional price.

Being betrayed, used, and taken for granted time and time again has taught me that not everyone deserves my love. I now only offer my love to those whose energy is reciprocated; to those who open their hearts and allow me the space to be vulnerable. I offer my love to those who love me enough to share my own story.

My love is powerful, and my love is strong. My love exceeds through generations and pours out of my body at the seams. My love extends a helping hand and graceful, wide, open arms. My love makes you playlists, writes you letters, and offers constant support. My love is magnetic. My love makes me who I am.

It is an honor to be loved by me.

And I know that now. I just had to learn the hard way.