What I'd Tell My Younger Self About Love
The letter I wish I'd read at twenty-five.
01Dear Younger Me
Stop trying to figure out if he likes you. You'll know. And if you're spending most of your energy decoding someone's signals, that's already your answer.
The urgency you feel — to settle it, fix it, make it certain — isn't love. It's anxiety wearing love's coat. Real affection is quieter and considerably less exhausting. Give that a moment to land.
Not every connection that feels electric is good for you. Some of the most charged relationships are charged precisely because something's off. Chemistry isn't a personality reference. Pay attention to how you feel after — not just during.
You're going to want to make yourself smaller so someone else can feel bigger. Don't. The person worth keeping will not ask that of you, even quietly.
Heartbreak will not actually break you. It will feel that way on a Tuesday at 11 p.m. — it will feel that way hard — but you will come out the other side with better instincts and kinder taste in people, including yourself.
It will feel that way on a Tuesday at 11 p.m.
Patience isn't the same as passivity. Waiting for something real isn't settling; it's knowing the difference between what's available and what's actually right. Those are two very different things, and learning to tell them apart is the quality worth waiting for.
And this, above everything: you are already enough. Not once you've been chosen. Not once you've figured it out. Right now, as you are, rereading this twice and still not quite believing it.
That's fine. You'll get there.
With love (and considerably more patience), Lili
From my notebook to yours, with love. — Lili