Sometimes it seems to me that we, women, have been hearing about love since childhood more than about ourselves. We grow up with stories about how important it is to be loved, how to look right to be liked, and how to behave in order to "keep". But few people tell us about something else: what kind of love makes us truly happy? Not for the sake of a "tick", not for beautiful photos on Instagram, not out of habit. But the kind that makes you want to live, shine and be yourself.

I searched for an answer for a long time. Sometimes - in completely wrong places: in relationships where I was not heard. In the hope that if I am convenient, calm, "good" - then I will definitely be loved. And you know what? I was really loved. But not the way I needed. Not deeply. Not sincerely. And most importantly - not with respect for my boundaries, dreams and inner world.

True love - the kind that makes a woman blossom - does not begin with a man. It begins with silence inside, with an honest conversation with yourself. With questions:
What is important to me? What makes me alive? Where do I feel freedom and where is fear?

The love that makes a woman happy should not “save” or “complement” her. It is not about dependence, not about control, not about need. This is love in which:

you can be yourself, even with disheveled thoughts and imperfect days;

your “no” is respected just as your “yes” is appreciated;

they hear even when you are silent;

together - but not stuck together, without losing your individuality;

do not persuade “to endure”, but strive to understand and become better for each other.

I am happy that on my path I began to learn to be in love with myself first. It is not easy: after all, it is much easier to give all your strength to another than to direct it inward. But this is where my encounter with that very love began - real, calm, careful. Without dramas and games.
Love in which it is good for me to be a woman