What's YOUR Love Story?

My love story starts 38 years ago, and perhaps even further than that. I was born in to blind chaos. My father, a loving and charismatic man, wore his broken, tainted heart on his sleeve. My mother, a beautiful and guarded woman, wanted desperately to be loved, to be seen, and fell madly in love with the kind of love she had ever known, the only kind of love my father could give; a destructive love, a love with limits and expectations, smothered in insecurities and fear.

A child was born, and while I don't doubt my parents loved me, their limitations greatly affected me. I can't blame them. They were only loving how they were loved, and my grandparents loved how they were loved, and so on. Generations of loving without knowing how, without understanding what it is to truly love.

Love. What a puissant word. All my life, I've been seeking this word, searching for my definition of love, a definition based on the accumulations of all the ways I'd been shown love, in the fairy tales, in the deep desires to fill a void I could only feel, in the fragmented way love is portrayed all around. If my idea of love is broken and skewed, does that mean the way I love is broken and skewed? If thoughts become actions, then the way I view, give and receive love directly reflect my thoughts about love.

I had to be honest with my relationship with love. To me, love is fear, love is scary and hurtful, love is pain. As a consequence, I've been giving and receiving love through that lens, and it's allowed me to seek the kind of love that makes me comfortable, that allows me to stay small, to love small, to protect my fragile heart. That's a scary realization, but also a hopeful one. I'f I'm able to see it, then I'm able to heal it.

How does one go about healing generations and generations of disillusioned love? At what point was there a disconnect? These patterns of love are literally in my DNA.

Much like I can't blame my family for not knowing what they didn't know, I can't blame myself either. It's easy to fall into the trap of self-blame and shame. Being aware that all these years I was choosing to give and receive from a place of lack and attachment breaks my heart. Having the awareness that while I was blaming others for my dissatisfaction and loneliness, it was, in fact, my own uninformed doing; I was seeking the broken, guarded love my parents gave me.

Everyday I gain a new understanding of true love, albeit slow, and at times, very uncomfortable, but lasting. My definition of love is changing; my DNA is changing. This life, my generation, I am transforming love; I'm defining from a place of worthiness, abundance and heart. I have my two earth angels to thank, my daughters. They are my North Star, guiding my heart to pure, unconditional love. The kind of love I deserve to not only receive, but to give.

My heart is far from fragile. It's brave and generous, it's deserving and unlimited. As I see the love in me, the love for me by me, I am able to see the world through that lens. I know this journey has just begun, but I am here to fight the good fight, for my babies, for future generations, for me.

What's your love story?