Let’s just say it out loud—healing is messy.
It’s not some glowing sunrise yoga session followed by journaling with a turmeric latte. Sometimes, it’s waking up at noon after crying yourself to sleep. Sometimes, it’s ghosting people because you’re exhausted from pretending to be okay. And yeah, sometimes it’s making the same mistake… again.
But guess what? You still deserve love.
Not when you’re “all better.” Not once you’ve “fixed yourself.” Not after you’ve erased the trauma or neatly packaged your baggage. Now. Right now. Exactly as you are. Broken pieces, shaky voice, trust issues and all.
We live in a world that loves to romanticize the idea of being “healed” before being loved.
“You have to love yourself first.”
“Work on yourself before dragging someone else into your mess.”
While there’s truth in those words, there’s also a dangerous lie hidden in them: that you’re unworthy until you’ve reached some imaginary finish line. But healing doesn’t come with a certificate of completion. It’s ongoing. It’s layered. And it’s deeply personal.
Truth is, most of us are walking contradictions—strong but wounded, kind but guarded, hopeful but scared to death. And still, we want love. Real love. The kind that sees the cracks and stays.
You might think, “No one wants to deal with this version of me.”
But that version of you—the one that’s been through hell and is still choosing to show up—is not a burden. That version has depth. That version knows how to feel, how to empathize, how to appreciate the smallest gestures because you know what it feels like to be empty.
You are not too much. You are not too complicated.
You are not behind schedule.
Maybe you flinch at affection. Maybe you question good intentions. Maybe you’re still learning how to not chase chaos or mistake pain for passion. That doesn’t make you unlovable—it makes you human.
You deserve someone who sees the work you’re doing.
Someone who doesn’t need you to be “easy.”
Someone who doesn’t flinch at the word “healing” because they know it’s not weakness—it’s bravery.
And until that person shows up, love yourself the way you’ve always wanted someone else to. Show up for yourself when you’re in the middle of a spiral. Hold your own hand when the anxiety hits. Talk to yourself kindly after a bad decision.
You are still becoming. But even in the becoming—you are already worthy.
You are already enough.
You are already lovable.
So no, you don’t need to wait.
You don’t need to be perfect.
And you definitely don’t need permission.
Love doesn’t only belong to the healed.
It belongs to the healing, too.
And sweetie, that includes you.
