She Was Love in Human Form

The Woman I Abandoned Trying Not to Be Abandoned

By Issa Rebirth | A Reflection on Love, Loss, and Coming Home to Myself

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been in love with the idea of love.

Not just any love. Extraordinary love.

The kind of love that defies the odds. The kind where two people find their way back to each other after years apart. The kind where your best friend becomes your lover, and somehow, without even realizing it, you’ve found your person.

I believed in serendipity. Fate. Soul connections. The idea that certain people were placed in our lives for a reason.

Even as a little girl, I imagined a love so beautiful that it almost seemed impossible.

But looking back now, I realize that little girl wasn’t just dreaming of romance.

She was dreaming of a love that would never leave her.

The Little Girl Who Feared Goodbye

I was seven years old when I lost my father.

At an age when I should have been learning about the world, I was learning about death, grief, and the devastating reality that someone you love can be here one day and gone the next.

I didn’t have the words to explain what that kind of loss did to me.

I just knew that people could leave.

And somewhere along the way, I began to believe that if I loved someone deeply enough, if I was good enough, understanding enough, forgiving enough, maybe I could keep them.

Maybe this time, love wouldn’t leave.

I carried that belief into adulthood without realizing how much it was shaping my relationships.

The Woman Who Begged People to Stay

Recently, I’ve spent a lot of time alone, reflecting on my life and reading old journal entries.

And some of what I discovered was heartbreaking.

I read about a woman who begged men to stay in her life.

A woman who apologized for things she hadn’t done.

A woman who pleaded for men to come back after they had disrespected, dismissed, and mistreated her.

A woman who was willing to accept almost anything because the thought of being abandoned felt more painful than the mistreatment itself.

And that was a hard reality to face.

Because when I read those words today, I barely recognize the woman who wrote them.

Not because I judge her.

But because I finally understand her.

She wasn’t weak.

She wasn’t stupid.

She wasn’t desperate because she had nothing to offer.

She was wounded.

She was carrying years of grief, abandonment, rejection, and unmet emotional needs.

And sometimes, when those wounds were triggered, she wasn’t fighting for the relationship itself.

She was fighting against the familiar pain of being left behind.

She was trying to prevent another goodbye.

She Was Love in Human Form

Here’s the part that brought me to tears.

When I look back at that woman now, I don’t feel anger toward her.

I feel sadness.

I feel compassion.

And yes, I feel regret.

I regret the times she abandoned herself to keep someone else.

I regret the times she questioned her worth because someone couldn’t recognize it.

I regret the times she apologized just to restore peace.

But I don’t regret that she knew how to love.

Because when I look at her now, I see something I couldn’t always see back then.

That woman was amazing.

She was funny, intelligent, nurturing, passionate, affectionate, outspoken, and full of life.

She loved deeply.

She believed in people.

She saw beauty in others, even when they struggled to see it in themselves.

She was willing to show up, to forgive, to encourage, and to nurture.

She was love in human form.

And the heartbreaking part is that she didn’t always recognize how deserving she was of receiving the very love she so freely gave.

She kept asking people to choose her when she hadn’t fully learned how to choose herself.

I Can Have Compassion for Them Without Excusing Them

Something else has changed in me.

When I look back at the men who hurt me, I don’t feel the same anger I once did.

In some ways, I feel sadness for them, too.

Not because I believe I was perfect.

Not because I think every relationship failed solely because of them.

But because I know what I brought into those relationships.

I know how deeply I loved.

I know how much I wanted to build something meaningful.

And I wonder what some of those relationships might have been if we’d both had the emotional tools to love each other in healthier ways.

Maybe some of them were carrying wounds of their own.

Maybe some didn’t know how to receive the love I offered.

Maybe some simply weren’t willing or able to build the kind of relationship I wanted.

I don’t have to know all the answers anymore.

And I no longer need to understand every reason someone hurt me to acknowledge that it hurt.

I can have compassion for someone’s wounds without making myself responsible for healing them.

I can forgive without returning.

I can understand without excusing.

And I can wish someone well without inviting them back into my life.

Love Was Never Supposed to Cost Me Myself

For years, I thought love meant holding on.

Fighting for the relationship.

Being patient.

Being understanding.

Forgiving again and again.

And while those things can have a place in healthy relationships, I’ve learned that love also requires discernment.

It requires boundaries.

It requires reciprocity.

And sometimes, it requires the courage to walk away.

I’ve learned that someone can be a wonderful person and still not be the right partner for me.

Someone can be honest about what they have to offer, and I can respect that honesty while recognizing that what they’re offering isn’t enough for me.

I don’t have to convince them to change.

I don’t have to make myself smaller.

I don’t have to pretend I’m comfortable with an arrangement that doesn’t meet my emotional needs.

I can want someone and still choose myself.

That is something the younger version of me struggled to understand.

But I’m learning.

I No Longer Need Love to Promise Me Forever

One of the biggest realizations I’ve had recently is that I cannot control whether someone stays in my life.

I never could.

I could love someone with everything in me, and they could still decide to leave.

And even if we stayed together for fifty beautiful years, life itself could eventually separate us.

One of us might die before the other.

That’s the reality of loving another human being.

There are no guarantees.

And strangely enough, accepting that has brought me peace.

Because I no longer want to spend my relationships afraid of losing someone.

I want to enjoy loving them.

I want someone who adds value to the life I’m already building.

Someone who shares my values, my dreams, and my vision for the future.

Someone who is my friend.

Someone I can laugh with, disagree with, grow with, and experience life alongside.

Someone who chooses me freely, not because I begged them to stay.

And I want to choose them just as freely.

I don’t need someone to promise they’ll never leave.

I need someone whose presence is meaningful, healthy, and loving while we’re choosing to share our lives.

I want love to add to my peace, not become the reason I lose it.

I Still Believe in Extraordinary Love

Here’s what I find beautiful about this chapter of my life.

I haven’t stopped believing in love.

I haven’t become bitter.

I haven’t decided that everyone is incapable of loving deeply.

I still believe two people can meet unexpectedly and build something beautiful.

I still believe friendship can blossom into romance.

I still believe in tenderness, passion, laughter, companionship, and the kind of love that makes ordinary days feel extraordinary.

But I no longer believe that a connection must be destiny simply because it feels intense.

I no longer believe that someone returning to my life means they’re meant to stay.

And I no longer believe that suffering is proof of how deeply two people love each other.

Maybe extraordinary love isn’t about overcoming impossible odds.

Maybe it’s about two people who genuinely enjoy one another and consistently choose to build something meaningful together.

Maybe the magic isn’t in the chase.

Maybe the magic is in the peace.

To the Woman I Used to Be

If I could sit across from the woman who wrote those old journal entries, I wouldn’t scold her.

I wouldn’t ask her why she stayed so long.

I wouldn’t tell her she should have known better.

I would hold her hands and tell her:

You were always enough.

You were worthy of love before anyone chose you.

You didn’t have to beg someone to see your value.

You didn’t have to apologize for having feelings.

You didn’t have to make yourself smaller to make someone comfortable.

And you didn’t have to keep proving how deeply you could love someone while neglecting yourself.

I would tell her that I understand why she was afraid.

I would tell her that I know how badly she wanted someone to stay.

And then I would tell her something I wish she’d known all those years ago.

Someone leaving you does not mean you are unworthy of being loved.

And someone staying does not automatically mean they are loving you well.

I wish she had known that.

But I know it now.

And perhaps that’s enough.

The Rebirth

Today, I am learning to love differently.

Not less deeply.

Not less passionately.

Not with a hardened heart.

But with a greater understanding of myself.

I’m learning that I can experience disappointment without questioning my worth.

I can miss someone without reaching for them.

I can love someone without trying to control the outcome.

I can accept that a connection was meaningful without needing it to last forever.

And I can choose solitude without feeling abandoned.

For the first time in a long time, I’m not looking for someone to rescue me from the possibility of loss.

I’m learning to trust myself to survive it.

The little girl inside me can still dream of extraordinary love.

But the woman I’ve become knows that her life is already extraordinary, with or without a romantic partner.

And when love comes, I want it to complement the beautiful life I’m creating.

Not become the center of my existence.

Not determine my worth.

Not require me to abandon myself.

Because after everything I’ve experienced, there’s one truth I want to carry into every relationship, every friendship, and every chapter of my life:

I was always love in human form.

I just had to learn that I deserved some of that love, too.

With love and rebirth,

Issa Rebirth

Turning Pain Into Beauty

A reflection for you: Have you ever found yourself fighting harder to keep someone in your life than you were fighting to protect your own peace? What would choosing yourself look like today?

Contacts

IssaRebirth81@gmail.com

Kenisha Miller, Life Coach