I Refuse To Be With You Unless You Look Like This

Drew Wilson
Drew Wilson

I refuse to be with you unless you have eyes that see me — in all of my damage, and all of my dark. I refuse to be with you unless you have the kind of eyes that accept me, in all of my flaws; the kind of eyes that have seen into my chest, that have explored the deepest parts of who I am, and have chosen to keep going, to keep excavating the hollow of who I have been and who I am becoming.

I refuse to be with you unless you have hands that hold me when I am hard to love. Hands that hold me when I am in my head, when I am deep in thought and overthinking. I refuse to be with you unless you have the kind of hands that dig through the dirt of me, that do not shy away from touching the parts of my soul that hurt, that parts of my skin that ache.

I refuse to be with you unless you have the kind of ears that hear me, the kind that listen without judgement. I refuse to be with you unless you have the kind of ears that refuse to tune me out when I bring up things you may not want to hear, when I talk to you about my insecurities or my doubts, when I shyly come forward to you with things that have been bewildering me or the things that have been filling my bones with bliss.

I refuse to be with you unless you have the kind of mouth that is soft, that is not a weapon when we are at war with each other, when we are working through the past and the future, when we are figuring out how to love better, how to grow together. I refuse to be with you unless you have the kind of mouth that speaks to me on a different level than most, the kind of mouth that asks me about more than my day — that wants to talk about vulnerable things, things that come from the depths of us, things that connect human beings, things that stretch far beyond the surface of it all.

I refuse to be with you unless you have the kind of heart that protects the person it chooses, the kind of heart that commits and strives to stay passionate. I refuse to be with you unless you have the kind of heart that understands mine, the kind that does not judge the bigness within me.

See, I am not ashamed that I have a type. I have loved and I have lost enough to know that I deserve more than what I have settled for in the past. I have grown, have pulled knowledge out of my brokenness, have truly taken a look at what I want, and what I need, and I refuse to accept anything less than that, because I crave a love that sees me. I crave a love that hears me. I crave a love that holds me. I crave a love that runs deep with me, and above all else, I crave a love that protects me. A love that keeps me soft. TC mark

Trace the scars life has left you. It will remind you that at one point, you fought for something. You believed.

“You are the only person who gets to decide if you are happy or not—do not put your happiness into the hands of other people. Do not make it contingent on their acceptance of you or their feelings for you. At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter if someone dislikes you or if someone doesn’t want to be with you. All that matters is that you are happy with the person you are becoming. All that matters is that you like yourself, that you are proud of what you are putting out into the world. You are in charge of your joy, of your worth. You get to be your own validation. Please don’t ever forget that.” — Bianca Sparacino

Excerpted from The Strength In Our Scars by Bianca Sparacino.

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