When Longing Wakes Us Up: Choosing Yourself Without Shrinking
This is for anyone who’s ever felt longing turn into self-doubt. May these words remind you that choosing yourself is the most sacred act of love.
There are moments in life when love appears like a gentle breeze
carrying prayers you whispered long ago.
Sometimes it shows up soft and nourishing
warming parts of you that thought they had retired from wanting.
Sometimes it arrives to remind you how much you’ve grown
and how much you’re still unwilling to trade
for a taste of something that almost fits.
When Someone Feels Like an Answer
Recently, I found myself in one of those tender, tangled places.
He came into my life like an answer.
He offered warmth and presence.
He opened his home and his hands to care for me
in ways my independent spirit had nearly forgotten it still craved.
He fed me well.
He cleaned my car, fixed little things I would have done alone.
He made me laugh until my belly hurt
and let me rest in the comfort of his arms.
For a flicker of time I wondered... maybe this was it.
The softness I had been praying for.
The Spark and the Whisper
We talked about dreams and futures.
About children.
About starting fresh and building something true.
His longing brushed against mine
and stirred an old spark in me that I thought I had laid to rest at thirty-eight.
I felt my heart say maybe.
Maybe this is the season to open fully.
Maybe this is the door I have been waiting for.
Yet in the quiet spaces between words
I felt the tension too.
He spoke about bodies, health, fitness
in a way that brought my softness up for silent inspection.
I saw it in his eyes at the gym
in the way his glance measured my belly, my curves, the pace of my breath.
That old familiar whisper returned.
Am I enough like this?
Do I need to tighten up, shrink down, smooth out
just to be worthy of this tenderness staying?
I Sat With That Whisper
Once upon a time
I would have believed it.
I would have wrapped myself tighter
agreed to eat less, move more, laugh smaller
apologize for the space my softness takes up.
But not now.
Not after the years I have spent returning to my body
as a home instead of an enemy.
Not after all the prayers I have spoken over my own curves
my enoughness
my longing for love that holds all of me
not just the version that is easy to display.
When the Dream Fades
So when the conversations about children faded into fear and excuses
when the warmth turned cool
when the readiness slipped back into old wounds he wasn’t ready to heal
I felt that familiar ache.
The same ache you may know well.
The one that tempts you to wonder if maybe you are the problem.
Maybe if you just stay a little longer, bend a little more, squeeze yourself smaller
love will stay too.
I felt the ache.
Then I felt my truth rise up stronger.
I will not shrink for love.
Not now.
Not ever again.
So I chose to leave
gently and honestly.
With no resentment
only gratitude for what we shared.
I thanked him for the warmth and the laughter
for the flicker of a dream that reminded me what I truly want.
I packed my things
closed his door behind me
and drove myself back home.
Both lighter and heavier at once.
Longing Is Not a Punishment
Here is what longing teaches us.
It is not punishment.
It is not proof we are foolish to want more.
It is a compass.
Pointing us toward what is truly ready to meet us
fully, freely
without conditions that demand our smallness.
I miss him.
I miss waking up with someone breathing beside me
the ease of being looked after.
I miss the way his presence made the world feel softer for a moment.
But missing him does not mean I made a mistake.
Missing him means my heart is awake
still open for the kind of love that does not weigh me on invisible scales.
What I Really Want
So I sat with my longing
and asked myself again — what do I really want?
I want a love that delights in my softness
as it is today.
A love that says yes to my belly
and my unpolished edges.
A love that can hold the reality of children
a future
a life built in truth
not as a someday fantasy
but as a sacred now.
I want presence that does not slip away when fear comes knocking.
Someone whose eyes stay kind when I am messy.
Who keeps laughing with me when I am ordinary.
Whose touch anchors me
instead of measuring me.
If You Know This Ache
If you are here, reading this
maybe you are feeling that same ache.
Maybe you too sat across from someone who felt like a promise
but turned out to be a bridge.
Maybe your prayers brought someone who cracked you open
just enough to show you how much more your heart is ready for.
If so, I want to remind you...
you did not fail because you chose yourself.
You did not waste your prayers or your time.
Longing does not mean you have to go back
and squeeze yourself into something that cannot hold you fully.
Longing means you are alive.
Your softness is sacred.
Your dreams are not too big.
Your heart is not too much.
A Gentle Ritual
When I felt my heart still tethered to him by invisible threads
I did a small ritual.
I sat alone with a candle and my breath.
I placed my hand on my chest
and I said thank you.
Thank you for the sweetness, for the lessons, for the spark.
I imagined that cord between us — gold and warm and beautiful —
then I cut it.
Gently.
Lovingly.
I called my energy home.
I filled the empty place with golden light
and whispered to myself:
I am whole. I am worthy. I am free.
If you feel that cord tugging at your ribs tonight
maybe this is your moment too.
Find your quiet place.
Place your hand over your heart.
Honor what was sweet.
Release what cannot stay.
Call yourself back.
Remind yourself — you do not have to shrink for love that is real.
You do not have to earn tenderness with your silence or your sacrifice.
You Are Already Enough
May you trust that the love you want
wants you too
just as you are
not as you promise to become.
May you trust that your longing is holy.
That your prayers never require your smallness
in exchange for being answered.
May you trust that you are already enough
for the softness you crave.
And when the ache returns
place your hand on your heart.
Feel your own warmth.
Breathe into the beautiful truth
that you are not alone.
You are not too much.
You are not behind.
You are simply here
on the edge of the life that is ready for your full presence.
I see you
exactly as you are.
And you are already enough.
If these words find you at the right time
I hope you let them hold you.
If you feel called to share your story
my door is open.
If you long for a safe space to remember your own enoughness
I am here for you.
May we all remember this.
Choosing ourselves is never a loss.
It is the deepest kind of love there is…<3
And so I hold this softness…
With warmth and truth,
Emina 💞
Yin Yang Healing Arts
#soulmedicine #IChooseMe #EmotionalSpiritualWellness
The Weight of Urgency: Releasing the Grip of Conditioned Thinking
When urgency takes hold, it often clouds our mental space. Pausing allows us to reclaim stillness, trust, and presence.
A Personal Reflection
Before you read, I want to share something personal. This reflection comes from a moment in my life where I faced the pull of urgency—a force that shaped how I saw love, care, and responsibility for years. I hope these words meet you wherever you are and offer a moment of pause, a chance to let go, even if just a little.
The Tension of Urgency
There’s a tension that creeps into the body when urgency takes hold—a tightness in the chest, a knot in the stomach, a flickering in the mind that insists, “Now. Act now.” For so long, I’ve allowed this urgency to steer me, convincing myself it was necessary, even virtuous. It’s been the fuel behind my care for others but also the weight tethering me to exhaustion.
Urgency, in its purest form, isn’t inherently wrong. It has its place in true moments of need. But when it becomes the default—a constant state of alertness—it begins to shape how we show up in our relationships and how we treat ourselves.
It convinces us that we must always be the first to respond, the one who holds everything together. It tells us that love is action, that care is immediacy, and that our worth is measured by how much we give and how quickly we give it.
But is that true?
A Moment of Reflection
Earlier today, my mother sent me a photo of my father in a hospital bed. The monitor by his side displayed his vitals. Her message was simple: “We are at the ER.”
Instantly, urgency rose within me. Panic pulled at my chest, and questions flooded my mind:
Should I go there?
What’s happening?
Why did she send this to me?
That last question hung in the air. Not in judgment, but in curiosity. What was she asking of me? What was I asking of myself?
In that moment, I heard a quieter voice, one I hadn’t listened to in a long time. It said, “You don’t have to be there. You can love them from here.”
It wasn’t dismissive or detached—it was steady, calm, and rooted in trust. I realized that the urgency I felt wasn’t just about my father’s health. It was about my own need to prove something: my care, my worth, my love.
Tracing the Roots of Urgency
Sitting with this, I began to see that the urgency I carried wasn’t born of this moment. It had been with me for years, planted deep and quietly nurtured by:
The belief that selflessness is the highest form of love.
The fear that not acting meant failing.
The idea that love is something to be performed, rather than something simply felt.
This urgency wasn’t just tied to my family. I saw it in my friendships, in how I handled work, and even in how I responded to myself. When I sent a text, I hoped for an instant reply. When I sensed someone’s pain, I felt an invisible pull to drop everything, even at my own expense. And when others didn’t mirror that urgency, it stung.
But was their delay neglect—or was it my expectation that was the source of my pain?
Choosing to Pause
As I sat with my thoughts, I asked myself: What if urgency isn’t the solution but the obstacle?
What if, instead of rushing to fix or prove, I could pause and trust? Trust that others are as capable of navigating their challenges as I am mine. Trust that my love doesn’t need to be immediate to be real.
So I tried. I didn’t rush to the ER. I didn’t let panic dictate my actions. Instead, I stayed where I was and let my love flow from afar. I sent prayers. I held them in my heart. And as I did, the tightness in my chest began to soften.
Breaking the Pattern
Releasing conditioned urgency isn’t about becoming passive or detached. It’s about learning to discern when action is truly needed and when it’s simply fear dressed as necessity.
It’s about reclaiming the stillness within ourselves—the part that knows love isn’t about speed or sacrifice, but about presence and intention.
This doesn’t mean I always get it right. There are moments when I still feel the pull to overextend, to expect from others what I’ve conditioned myself to give. But now I have something I didn’t before: awareness.
And with awareness comes choice.
A Practice for You
If you’ve felt this weight of urgency, I invite you to pause. Feel where it lives in your body. Is it in your chest? Your stomach? Your throat? Let it rise without pushing it away. Just notice.
Then ask yourself:
What am I truly afraid of in this moment?
What would happen if I didn’t respond right now?
How can I trust that things will unfold as they’re meant to?
You might find that beneath the urgency lies fear. Or love. Or both. Let yourself feel whatever arises, without judgment. Then, as you exhale, imagine releasing that weight, even if just a little.
A Closing Reflection
Healing this pattern isn’t about perfection—it’s about presence. Every time you pause instead of reacting, you create space:
Space for yourself to breathe.
Space for others to find their own strength.
Space for life to unfold without force.
You don’t need to carry the weight of every moment. You don’t need to prove your worth through urgency. You are enough—whether you act or whether you stay still.
May this reflection offer you the same sense of relief it has brought me. Let’s practice together, not by running or rushing, but by resting in the quiet trust that love and care don’t need to be urgent to be real.
#ReleaseUrgency, #TrustInStillness,#EmpoweredPresence
What does the pull of urgency feel like for you? How do you navigate the space between action and stillness? Share your thoughts in the comments below or connect with us on our social media channels. We’d love to hear your reflections.
Mirrors of the Soul: Transforming Through Reflection
Have you ever wondered why certain
patterns keep showing up in your
relationships?
Why, despite changing partners, you encounter the same challenges or emotions? It’s because romantic partners are like mirrors, reflecting back the parts of ourselves that we need to see. These reflections aren’t just about love—they’re about growth, awareness, and transformation.
Meeting the Shadow: Embracing the Unseen Self
Art by:Vybn
Each of us carries a shadow—the hidden aspects of ourselves that we often reject or deny. In relationships, these shadows are brought to the surface, sometimes painfully, but always with purpose. The jealousy, anger, or insecurity that a partner may stir within us are not flaws of the other person; they are reflections of the shadows we have yet to meet and embrace.
To truly transform, we must look into these mirrors not with judgment, but with compassion. Accepting and loving our shadow parts is where profound healing begins. It’s an invitation to deepen our self-awareness and to step into a more expansive, authentic version of ourselves.
The Expansion of Mind and Being
When we start to accept our shadows, a powerful shift occurs: our consciousness expands. It’s like opening a window in a dark room, allowing light to flood in and illuminate what was once hidden. This expansion doesn’t just stay confined to our inner world; it radiates outward, influencing our actions, our energy, and our relationships. When the mind expands, everything else about our being follows—our capacity for love, empathy, and connection all grow in ways we never imagined.
As we evolve, so does our reflection. The partners we attract begin to mirror the love, self-awareness, and acceptance we’ve cultivated within. We stop seeing the same old patterns because we’re no longer the same person looking in the mirror.
The Journey of Transformation
This journey isn’t about seeking a perfect partner or a flawless relationship. It’s about becoming the clearest, most authentic version of ourselves. It’s about realizing that every romantic connection—whether joyful or challenging—is a sacred reflection of our inner state. By embracing the totality of who we are, shadows included, we step into a life of conscious expansion where every aspect of our being can flourish.
Reflect, Transform, Expand
In the end, changing the mirror won’t change the reflection. But when you change—when you dive deep into self-love and shadow work—the reflection becomes a powerful testament to your growth. This is the beauty of relationships: they are constant opportunities for expansion, not just of the mind, but of the heart, the soul, and the entire being. As you transform, so too does the world around you, reflecting back the love and light you’ve discovered within.
#SelfAwareness, #ShadowWork, #ConsciousExpansion
Share your reflections in the comments below, or connect with us on our social media channels.
We’d love to hear from you!