In Love, In Growth

Lara stands in front of the mirror with her hands placed on the scar over her collarbone. The room was quiet, except for some faint tunes Niye had put on the playlist playing in the background. These Saturday dinners had become sort of a ritual. One Niye had insisted on keeping when she told him she was too much to handle and tried to call it off.

She glanced at the note pinned beside the mirror “You deserve love, even from yourself.”

It had been years since she last looked in a mirror. Further and further back into her mind, churning out negatives over and over again, too many reminders of what she didn’t like, what she really thought about herself. But tonight felt different. She was not complete, not yet, but she was not devastated either.

“Lara?” Niye’s voice came from the kitchen. “I’m burning the Spaghetti. Again.”

She smiled, the volume of his strong voice interrupting her inner conversation. “How difficult is it to boil water?” She teased, walking into the kitchen.

Niye turned, smiling in embarrassment as he walked to the sink “Harder than I expected, I think.” He waved the pot in front of her like an exhibit.

Lara laughed, shaking her head, “Move away, kitchen catastrophe.”

Niye stood opposite her, folding his hands as she worked. He leaned his body against the countertop, his steady gaze on her. His eyes were unwavering, not random stares she was already used to. With him, she felt safe and seen without the urge to escape and hide.

“You know,” he said, “you’re glowing tonight.”

She stood still for a moment with her hand above the pot. “Glowing?”

“Yeah,” he said softly, taking one step forward. “Like you’ve started seeing what I’ve always seen in you.”

Lara turned her gaze towards him, fear beating softly in her heart “Niye…”

“You are learning to love yourself,” he said softly “And it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Her walls almost went up, the familiar urge to lock herself away creeping in. But this time, she didn’t want to hide. Not from herself and not from him.

“I’m trying,” she admitted. “It’s not easy, but… I’m trying.”

Niye stretched out his hand and brushed her hair behind the ear, “Love is never easy. It just has to be real.”

For a moment, they stood there alone, the kitchen light shining down on them. When he pulled her into his arms, it wasn’t to mend her or to provide her with purposes to fulfill. It was to embrace the person she was—strengths, weaknesses, and all.

Together with him, dancing slowly to the song, she noticed something new growing in her, in her heart. Not just the beginning of love for Niye but for herself as well.

“I think I’m ready,” she said in a very low voice.

He smiled against her hair. “Then let’s grow together.”

Image by Jill Wellington from Pixabay