I'm not talking about fairy tales. I'm generally tired of them. Of all these fictional ideal stories, where everyone is everything to each other, everyone knows how to behave, what to say, where to look. Life is not like that at all. It is abrupt, absurd, coffee in the morning, anxiety in the evening, melancholy on the weekend. But even in all this there is a feeling that you are a reason.

Not a goal. Not a victory. But a reason.

A reason for someone to become better. Not in the sense that he was "not very good", and now with you he has become "cool". No. He was good. He just wants to be BETTER with you. Not to prove it. But simply because you exist. Because your point of view is important. Your silence is important. Your reaction. Everything is important.

I think every man has such a woman. Not perfect. Alive. With cockroaches, with broken mascara, with a stain on her T-shirt and with a very warm heart. The one for whom he suddenly starts doing what he had previously put off. Not out of a sense of duty, but out of desire - to be close, to be worthy, to be himself, but in his best version.

Not because she demands, but because he likes the way he feels next to her.

And I increasingly catch myself thinking: I want to be like that. Or maybe I already am? 🤷‍♀️

Not a girl with the slogan “cheat for me”, but a woman who simply TURNS ON. With her presence. Her intonation. Her reality.

It's a strange feeling. Not about pride, not about power. But as if you are a bit of a miracle. Not a sorceress, no. It's as if through you — some internal motor starts up in him. And you see it. He doesn't yet. But you see — how he started to stand straighter. How he speaks a little more confidently. How he takes a step where he's wanted to for a long time, but never dared. How his eyes shine when you're near.

You don't ask for anything. You don't push. You don't manipulate. But inside, everything is RIGHT.

And then I sit down and think: what if such coincidences really exist? He was himself. You were yourself. And together — it turned out to be some THIRD level. Where both are better. Without strain. Without struggle.

I don't even know if this man has a name for me. Perhaps he already was. Or will be. Or right now he's scrolling through his feed somewhere and feels the same thing, only he can't explain it in words.

But I know one thing for sure: I want to be the reason for someone's growth, not someone's struggle.
The reason for inspiration. Calm. Desires.

Not out of fear of losing, but out of pleasure of being near.

Natie