Radiating Purpose the Calm of Love Vol 1; 2
Fear prevents us from reaching our true potential. listen to our guests as they share how they overcame their fears and started new, empowering lives.
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It’s the week of Thanksgiving. If you are reading this in the United States you know that often means family, food, nesting in and community. At least, if you are lucky. I am one of the lucky ones.
Yet, I was still feeling a little low energy. I’ll be honest, it’s in large part because I am both missing a recent partner who I deeply loved, and also because I miss that particular sense of deep love from a partner.
I went to a community event for conscious relationships here in D.C. and left in tears both from feeling unready and also because there was a man there who was aggressively attempting to talk with me and I felt trapped. I left in tears.
Then, I realized that this was actually a gift. Yes, you read that right. A gift. I walked home, lit a candle and started to ask myself what was my goal of attending? Initially, I thought it was yet another attempt to find ‘the love of my life.’ Even though I would say, if asked, that I know that I am the love of my own life, I don’t feel that way always.
Then, I asked myself this: what would it feel like to let that narrative go—that I need a partner to feel whole or loved? What if I gently turned inward towards my own heart? I felt a fresh wave of tears and this time a little relief.
What would it look like if I lived my life in the vision of being one with all the parts of me that need love?
As I sat with that, Jung’s words surfaced: “The privilege of a lifetime is to become who you truly are.” For so much of my life—especially as a survivor, an advocate, then a partner and coach—I thought healing meant learning to give and receive love in the ways I wished I had always been loved. I became a master at reading others’ pain and hope, forgetting sometimes that my deepest work was to turn that same loving gaze on myself.
World renowned relationship therapist, Esther Perel often writes that love is a practice, not just a feeling—that intimacy begins with curiosity, atunement, and the willingness to sit with longing rather than rush to fix it. She also challenges us: “The quality of our relationships determines the quality of our lives.” But what happens when that relationship is the one I hold with my own self?
As I let myself feel the ache of missing partnership, I realized how easy it is to turn grief into judgment. The mind runs old tapes: Why didn’t it work? What if I loved better? Did I choose too quickly, or not quickly enough? As a coach, I teach my clients to ask: What am I making this experience mean about me? I sat with that question and let the answers surface—there it was: remnants of old shame, memories of being unseen or too much or too little, the echo of past partners whose limitations became my burdens to carry.
But here’s the truth—and the hope: The old self blames and questions; the self in process simply witnesses. In Jungian tradition, individuation means welcoming home every lost or unloved aspect, giving my disappointed lover-self a seat at the table alongside the hopeful, the fierce, the creative child. Sheleana Aiyana of Rising Woman writes, “Self-love is a continuous unfolding, a returning—not a finish line to cross.” I am beginning, finally, to believe her.
That night, instead of writing in a cafe and quietly hoping “the one’ might walk up to me or refreshing messages, I decided to become my own loving witness. I asked: What would I say to my best friend if she came home from that event in tears? I would say, oh, love—thank you for your hope, your softness, your courage in risking again. You are allowed to want more. You are allowed to feel sad. You are allowed to move slowly.
So I tried something new. I wrote a letter—to the woman in me who is always waiting for “the one.” I promised her I would show up for her, no matter who else appeared or left. I promised to honor her boundaries, to hold her joy and her disappointment with equal tenderness. I promised to let love in—her own love—before I sought it from anyone else. (I might share the full letter later but better proof it b/c I name names!).
This, I think, is the real work of loving and guiding myself. Not perfection, not independence at the cost of closeness, but a deeper homecoming. I cannot rush my way to the next right relationship. I can only offer myself patience, self-forgiveness, and the steady curiosity to see what is wanting attention within me now.
Tomorrow, Thanksgiving, I will get up early, prepare my packages of food for homeless people in my community, take my dog on her walk (see photo above) and say aloud, ‘you are the love you have been waiting for.’
If you are reading this and feel that same longing, or the sting of hope and disappointment, please know: you are not behind. You are not broken. The heart’s longing is sacred. And if—like me—you sometimes forget, let this be your reminder that the journey to loving purpose starts and ends within. Everything else is a bonus, a beautiful unfolding.
If you feel called to explore your own alchemy, healing, or purpose in a supportive and soulful way, I invite you to connect with me. Whether you are curious about coaching, looking for a healing community, or simply needing a place to start, I offer free initial consultations through Radiate Purpose.
Let’s discover together what’s possible for you.
You can request a free call or learn more here.
Your story matters. Your healing is sacred. You don’t have to walk this alone.
Andrea
