Enough.

Recently I saw a screenshot of a tumblr post that was addressed to twenty-year-olds who've never been loved, and my heart and mind wanted to continue in a similar vein here.

With Valentine's day coming up, I've been thinking a lot about love. About what it is, and how to give it, and how to receive it. I've realized that this is a lesson I need to learn better, and I've been working on it. So, know that this post is just as much for me as it is for you.

So, say you're twenty-something, and you've never been loved.

Sure, you've been liked. But I'm talking loved.

You're twenty-something and no one has ever cared enough to ask you how your day has been for more than two days in a row. And you watch as your friends interact with their spouses, and you notice how he's gentler, and she smiles more, and you wonder what's wrong with you, why you don't have somebody to be gentle, to smile with.

You're twenty-something and the last time you held anyone's hand was six months ago, and you haven't seen that person for six months. The last good kiss you had is faded in your memory -- or maybe you've never had a good kiss, or any kind of kiss at all.

You're twenty-something and people start to throw around words like "picky", and you assume you are the problem.

You're twenty-something and you feel gray, like people walking down the street look right past you to the next person. You're twenty-something and you feel older than that.

And maybe in quiet moments, you wonder if anyone will ever love you enough to bring you flowers, or watch your favorite shows even if they don't like them, or dance with you in the kitchen. You wonder if you have a chance with anyone anymore. You wonder if you're actually worth loving at all.

Or maybe you've fallen for someone, but you know that even though you'd rebuild the sky for this person if that was what they asked, they don't care enough and might never care enough to wonder what you look like when you wake up in the morning. Maybe the emptiness of it crushes you like a soda can drunk dry.

Maybe someone loved you, but only at first. You curse the words "at first" and try to get by every day believing that you're worth something to someone. And maybe it's more often than you'd like to admit that you wonder what kind of a person someone could fall out of love with. It scares you.

Maybe someone has lied to you. Broken you. Abused you. Cheated on you. And in the aftermath of this storm comes the realization that people are not all they seem to be, and lovers can become soldiers, and love can become a war -- with injuries, with casualties. You look at yourself in the mirror and see spidery-thin cracks webbing across your skin, and you wonder if you can be fixed at all.

I know this. I'm twenty-one and even though I'm very young, there are moments where I wonder as well. I'm a twenty-one year old girl who just wants to find someone to laugh with, and I sometimes worry, when I see my social media clogged with people's engagements and wedding announcements, what is so wrong with me, why things haven't moved lightning quick for me like they have for so many of my friends. I know that's kind of ridiculous; I'm kind of ashamed to admit it. But here's the thing -- I know I'm not the only one.

That's why I'm writing this. I'm writing this to all of you who are wondering and worrying this Valentine's day instead of being with someone.

I have learned some precious truths from my life experiences and from my experiments with love that I could not have learned as well if I had been in a relationship at the time. That is the blessing of singlehood. You get lots of time to learn and grow and become something better without having the added costs (and benefits) of a romantic relationship.

I'd like to share what my singleness has taught me, in the hope that it can help you feel like you're not a defunct person or a misfit, just a person who has enough to contribute on their own.

Firstly, a personal lesson that I've learned: the kind of love I'm looking for is the kind of love that grows, and usually that love takes time, and starts small. The love I want is rooted in respect, understanding, and honesty. And I've also learned I'm not going to settle for anything but that. It's better to wait for the right thing than hurry into the wrong one.

And now, I want to tell you a very important thing I've come to know, loudly, joyfully: there isn't anything wrong with you, twenty-something human! (I'm sure that's a huge relief.)

But really, I'm serious. We live in a world that proclaims that your value is based on who loves you and who doesn't. But guess what? You're a worthwhile person no matter what. No matter who. No matter when.

Let me repeat: YOU ARE STILL A WORTHWHILE HUMAN BEING IF YOU AREN'T IN A ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP.

I know the pressure is on. I know the world wants to hurt you for spending time alone and sometimes it feels like you're drowning, choking on nothing. But you are wonderful on your own. Please believe that.

Look at yourself in the mirror again. Instead of wondering, smile at yourself. Notice things. I noticed the last time I smiled at myself in the mirror, not for the first time, that I have crater-sized dimples on my face. These used to be a bother for me. I disliked smiling because I felt uncomfortable about how they looked. They're goofy as heck -- and with the wisdom of a little more time, I love them. They make my smile mine. And my smile, and yours, is a pretty powerful thing. Find beauty in your own face.

Wear something that makes you feel amazing. Everyone should do this every once in awhile. Do that thing where you become your own sassy Southern fairy godmother and look at yourself and say, "dang, you look gooooood!" Wow yourself.

Write yourself a love poem. Think of all the reasons you wish someone would love you and love yourself for them. Talk about the color of your eyes and the things you'd do if you weren't afraid. Open up to yourself - let yourself examine your heart. Compliment yourself. Tell yourself you're so excited to spend the rest of your life with yourself. Learn, slowly, to mean it.

Figure out if you're a child of God or not. I'm not here to tell you what to believe, but I am here to tell you what I believe, and I believe you are. I believe I am. And I believe that because I've asked God what He thinks of me. This is how I've learned the truth about myself -- it doesn't matter who loves me and who doesn't. I know that He does. And that's enough to make me whole.

And when the time comes that someone comes around, however unlikely that might seem and however desperate you feel for love, pay attention.

Do not love people who want you to be less of yourself. Don't love those who make it feel like a sacrifice to spend time with you, like being around you is a trial. Don't love people who don't see you for what you are, what really gives you value. Don't love people who don't treat you like who you are or want to tell you lies about your identity. Don't love people who don't want to accept your whole, imperfect heart. Don't love people who only love parts of you. It just isn't worth it.

Know this: you were not created half of a person. You can do love. You can do life. And you can love yourself just like anyone else can. Learn to love yourself, and learn how loved you were created to be, and it brings a lot of peace. It's hard, but you'll be thankful you put in the work.

Just bloom, my sunflower child. Grow tall and know that you were created to be beautiful. You already are.

I'm proud of you.

All my love,

Em