“Go fuck yourself.”

This is pretty much what I say in my head while giving the dirtiest resting bitch face when someone affirmatively tells me, “love happens when you’re not looking for it.” The sentiment doesn’t come any easier when delivered from the mouth of someone who has a life partner.

With a world built for couples, waiting patiently or hoping to find a partner is easier said than done. It’s also exhausting, especially in the LGBTQ world. Perhaps that’s why people stop looking all together and become cat people.

I will confess, after admitting to myself I am open to the possibility of a loving relationship, a Most Favorite Love (MFL) if you will, my resting bitch face has lessened? Definitely a question mark. I started noticing I was more approachable and less angry looking.

Admitting to myself that I wanted to share love with an MFL was a huge emotional breakthrough for me. I’ve always been, for the most part, independent. I moved 2,500 miles away from my family after college. I ventured out of my father’s house a week after high school graduation. As soon as I could see over the washer, my mother wasted no time in letting me know, “Well, you’re tall enough to do your own laundry. Cold is darks, hot is whites. Get to it.” Growing up, my siblings were at least four years ahead of me, so I didn’t fit into their age group of activities, leading me to be on my own or create my own circle of friends.

Independence and being on my own is my identity. So why now all of the sudden have I turned into this cliché, reversely jaded, sappy, romantic comedy loving, partner longing person? Why am I envious of others and their relationships? And how do I fix it?

With most of the questions I want answered about myself, I find I have to stop lying to myself. I jive well with independence because it’s easy and the chances of getting hurt emotionally are 100% less. Deep wounds of abandonment from my childhood and young adult life always push me away from giving love freely. But admitting this doesn’t make it any easier to just let go.

I recently had more meaningful conversations with friends about uttering the phrase, “I love you,” so freely. I often feel out of place or cannot accept the thought that someone saying, “I love you,” to me is really true. How can someone say that if they’re probably just going to leave me eventually anyways?

But that’s just it. Why does it matter if they are going to leave? Not to sound morbid, but eventually everyone in my life will be gone. Whether I die, they die, I move away, they move away, why should that stop me from giving love so freely? If I genuinely feel that I love the person, I should let them know, without the fear of them disappearing or getting love in return.

I have started practicing saying I love you to others. Sometimes I still feel awkward about it. And I don’t know if I’ll ever get to the point where it won’t feel awkward for me. I do know I don’t want to give up saying it just because it makes me feel uncomfortable.

I’ve also found that when admitting that I do love friends and family, I become less envious of what they have. I start appreciating them more. I admire their relationship and imagine myself being there one day. And maybe a relationship won’t happen for me. That’s also a possibility. That alone shouldn’t get in the way of me giving love to people freely. Because that’s selfish.

I gots a lot of love to give. And I wanna share it with the world. I’m gonna love myself and everybody else!