On the day when it will be possible for woman to love not in her weakness but in strength, not to escape herself but to find herself, not to abase herself but to assert herself – on that day love will become for her, as for man, a source of life and not of mortal danger. In the meantime, love represents in its most touching form the curse that lies heavily upon woman confined in the feminine universe, woman mutilated, insufficient unto herself.
Beautifully said. These are words from an existential French Philosopher, Simone de Beauvoir.
Self love is often the most trickiest and hardest to cultivate. I’ve always found it easier to love another instead of myself, to see them but not me, to reach out but not within, to give and give till I’m blue in my face and colourless in my ♥ heart.
But now I’m learning. Slowly, but I’m learning. To love myself. Clichéd as it may sound, it is essential.
May Love, in all its shapes and forms, be your closest friend today. May you find it in your beautiful heart and may it find You.