Dear Broken Heart, You Still Deserve Gentle Things”
Just because someone didn’t value your love doesn’t mean your love wasn’t valuable.
Heartbreak can make us hard. It teaches us to guard, to retreat, to expect the worst. But your softness is not a weakness. Your openness is not a flaw. You loved with depth, and that is a gift.
Allow yourself to grieve the dream, the future you imagined, the time you gave. But don’t let the pain convince you that you are not worthy of love again. You are. Not just any love—but a steady, respectful, honest kind of love. The kind that doesn’t play with your heart, doesn’t silence your needs, doesn’t require shrinking.
Rest. Cry. Laugh again when you’re ready. The right person won’t just love you—they’ll recognize the strength it took to still believe in love.
Just because someone didn’t value your love doesn’t mean your love wasn’t valuable.
Heartbreak can make us hard. It teaches us to guard, to retreat, to expect the worst. But your softness is not a weakness. Your openness is not a flaw. You loved with depth, and that is a gift.
Allow yourself to grieve the dream, the future you imagined, the time you gave. But don’t let the pain convince you that you are not worthy of love again. You are. Not just any love—but a steady, respectful, honest kind of love. The kind that doesn’t play with your heart, doesn’t silence your needs, doesn’t require shrinking.
Rest. Cry. Laugh again when you’re ready. The right person won’t just love you—they’ll recognize the strength it took to still believe in love.
Dear Broken Heart, You Still Deserve Gentle Things”
Just because someone didn’t value your love doesn’t mean your love wasn’t valuable.
Heartbreak can make us hard. It teaches us to guard, to retreat, to expect the worst. But your softness is not a weakness. Your openness is not a flaw. You loved with depth, and that is a gift.
Allow yourself to grieve the dream, the future you imagined, the time you gave. But don’t let the pain convince you that you are not worthy of love again. You are. Not just any love—but a steady, respectful, honest kind of love. The kind that doesn’t play with your heart, doesn’t silence your needs, doesn’t require shrinking.
Rest. Cry. Laugh again when you’re ready. The right person won’t just love you—they’ll recognize the strength it took to still believe in love.
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