Burning Beneath

I keep noticing the same quiet question returning to me.

Not loudly.

Not dramatically.

Just gently, persistently.

When do I get to be chosen without having to earn it?

I’ve spent a lifetime being present, reliable, thoughtful, emotionally available.

I show up.

I listen.

I care.

People come to me easily.

They talk.

They share.

They lean in.

And yet, so often, I remain the place people visit, not the place they stay.

It’s not that I need constant attention.

It’s not that I want to be chased.

What I want is simpler than that.

I want to feel chosen without having to prove my worth, my depth, my usefulness, or my patience.

There’s a particular kind of ache that comes from being meaningful but not prioritized.

From being appreciated but not selected.

From being close, but not held.

And I’m starting to see that this isn’t about being unlovable.

It’s about standing too long in spaces where choosing isn’t available.

Some people can feel resonance without readiness.

Some people can share intimacy without intention.

Some people can enjoy connection without commitment.

And none of that makes them wrong.

But it does mean those spaces are not meant to be where I rest my heart.

I’m learning that being chosen doesn’t arrive through waiting harder or giving more.

It arrives when I stop offering myself where mutual choosing cannot happen.

I don’t want to audition for love.

I don’t want to translate mixed signals.

I don’t want to sit with my phone lighting up my hope.

I want something quieter.

Clearer.

Mutual.

So maybe the real question isn’t when I’ll be chosen.

Maybe it’s when I’ll fully choose myself out of half-doors and into alignment.

And I think I’m already beginning to answer that.