Starting over makes you think,
What am I doing?
I have to build my whole life again—alone.

But starting over
is also one of the most peaceful things
that ever happens to you.

You discover the quiet joy
of your own company
while simultaneously learning
that being alone
still feels incredibly lonely.

I used to look at people
who seemed content on their own
and wonder if they had found
something inside themselves
that I hadn’t.

Not because I needed another person
to feel content,

but because lately,
I’ve felt a strong desire
to be met.

Because I don’t think
I’m missing anything.

I’m not searching for someone
to fill an empty space.

I have filled my own life.

I have danced in my kitchen
with the biggest smile on my face.

I have drawn myself a bath
and poured sparkling water
into a fancy glass
filled with fruit and mint
and felt entirely on top of the world.

I have sipped coffee on my back porch
beneath the beautiful trees,
my pup beside me,
my Bible in my lap,
and thought—

This life is beautiful.

And it is.

But the loneliness itself
isn’t what gets you.

It’s the wondering
if you will always be alone.

Not because no one would want you.
Not because no one could desire you.

But because you wonder
if anyone will ever truly meet you.

If someone will witness
the ordinary moments
that quietly become your life.

If someone will dance beside you
in the kitchen
and still know how to meet you
in the deepest rooms of your soul—

the rooms where you hold thoughts
some people would never dare
to say aloud
or even admit they have felt.

I don’t need someone
to rescue me from my life.

I have built a life
I’m proud to live.

I only wonder
if someone will ever arrive
who can see all of it—

the woman laughing carelessly
in the kitchen,
the woman praying on the porch,
the woman brave enough
to speak from the depths of her soul—

and understand
that in her joy
and in her tears,
in her overthinking
and in her wildest thoughts,
she is still the same woman.

That is the fear.

Not that no one would want me.
Not that I am unlovable.

But that I may never find someone
who can see all of me
and understand who they’re seeing.

Heather Dyan Morgan

If this resonated with you, I talk more about these moments, the messy, the healing, the becoming.. on my podcast, Wandering the Wild Mess.

Listen here:
wanderingthewildmess.com