Not All Lives Are Picture Perfect, And That’s Okay.

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Growing up without the kind of love you think you’re supposed to have… it DOES something to you. It shapes how you see yourself, how you move through the world, how you love others, and how you let them love you back. 

I’ve spent most of my life trying to untangle the ache of wanting more. More affection. More attention. More warmth. More of a connection I didn’t get the chance to fully have. And for a long time, I thought that missing piece meant something was wrong with me, like I was too hard to love, or maybe just not enough. 

As a kid, especially after losing my mom, I painted these “what if” stories in my head. What if she had lived? What if we had time to grow close? What if she would’ve shown me the kind of love I craved? I used to believe those “what ifs” would’ve made everything better. That they would’ve FIXED ME. 

But the older I get, the more I realize, life doesn’t work like that. 

Not all childhoods are soft. Not all stories are pretty. Not all people grow up in homes filled with laughter and hugs and the kind of safety that makes you feel seen. Some of us grew up learning to survive in places where emotions were quiet, where strength was silent, and where love, if it existed, didn’t always know how to show up. 

And still, here we are. 

Still becoming. Still growing. Still figuring it out. Still learning that the love we didn’t get back then doesn’t define the love we’re WORTHY of now. 

I used to feel broken by the gaps in my story. Now, I just see someone who had to grow up a little faster, carry a little more, and find his own way toward healing. 

Life isn’t picture perfect. It’s messy. It’s layered. It’s full of contradictions, joy and grief, pain and peace, loss and growth. And when you can accept that, when you stop chasing the version of life you should’ve  had, and start honoring the one you do, something s h i f t s. 

You stop needing to rewrite the past. You just learn to hold it differently. 

So if you're out there reading this, maybe growing up felt lonely, maybe you're still carrying questions, or wishing for things that never came, I just want to say: you're not alone.

You're not broken. And your story, no matter how imperfect, still matters. 

Because sometimes the most beautiful lives are the ones that were pieced together from broken beginnings. 

And I’m proud of mine.