Love does not ask you to arrive polished or perfect.
It does not measure your worth by the steps you have taken or the mistakes you've made.
Love simply waits with arms open wide,
Whispering,
Come as you are.
It does not demand that you hide the broken pieces of yourself,
Nor does it require you to silence your doubt,
Fears,
Or longings.
Instead,
It gathers all of you,
Your light and your shadow,
Your joy and your sorrow,
And welcomes them home.
When you release the need to prove yourself or earn affection,
You will discover that love has never been conditional,
It is your birthright,
The fabric of your very being.
Imagine laying down the heavy armor you've carried,
The stories that say you are unworthy,
And feeling them melt away as you step into love's embrace.
Here,
You are not judged,
You are known.
You are not measured,
You are seen.
You are not tolerated,
You are treasured.
This is the homecoming of the soul,
To surrender the illusion of separation and rest in the eternal truth that you are already loved,
Already whole,
Already enough.
Love does not keep a record of your wandering,
It rejoices simply that you have returned.
Each time you remember this,
Each time you allow yourself to be held without condition,
You come back home.