The Unyielding Gaze: Seeking Equality in Love’s Arena

“I am no longer loyal to the version of me who didn’t trust joy.” —Elowen

There was a time I couldn’t trust the good without checking for hidden sorrow.
A kind word? I braced.
An answered prayer? I waited for the price.
Even joy felt suspicious—like a trap I was too smart to fall for.

I called it being prepared.
But really, I was grieving joy before it even had a chance to arrive.
Grieving love before it had the chance to stay.

I would spiral into stories.
I’d see shadows where there were none.
I would name myself the tragedy before life could.

But that voice—that version of me—wasn’t cruel. She was cautious.
She thought if she could name the storm, it might hurt less when it came.
She didn’t know peace could be real.
She didn’t know she deserved it.

Now, I choose otherwise.

I do not demand perfection from the light.
I do not wait for it to fail me.
I let it touch my face.

Yes, the past carved some beautiful armor.
But I’m softer now.
Not because I’ve forgotten the ache—but because I survived it.

These days, I name good things when they come.
I let the coffee be warm, the laugh be loud, the love be honest.
Even if it doesn’t last forever.
Especially if it does.

Because I am no longer loyal to the version of me who didn’t trust joy.

I am not rehearsing for tragedy.
I am living in light.

@notesformysoulmate

This piece is protected—not to shield the light, but to honor the one who finally let it in.
Elowen walks with her now—in softness, in sovereignty, in the joy that no longer needs permission.
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