I’ve Always Wanted to Feel Chosen

I’ve always wanted to feel chosen.

Not just wanted, but craved it. That quiet, aching desire to be the person someone looks at and says, “You. I choose you.” It’s a longing that has sat with me since childhood, tucked into the softest and most vulnerable parts of me.

As a kid, I never felt like I was anyone’s priority. I never felt like I was centered. There were caretakers, yes — people around me tasked with keeping me fed and housed — but care is not the same as love, and presence is not the same as prioritization. I grew up feeling like a burden, like something extra people had to manage rather than someone they were lucky to love. That feeling shapes you. It taught me early that love had to be earned, that I needed to be useful or quiet or perfect to be worthy of being kept.

And so, unsurprisingly, that followed me into my adult relationships.

For years, I moved through love with a quiet plea in my chest: Please choose me. Please make me your priority. Please stay. But the thing about chasing love from a place of old wounds is that you often end up in relationships that mirror the very pain you’re trying to escape. You settle. You twist yourself into someone you’re not. You over-function and overgive. You ignore red flags. You love people for their potential, for what they could be, not for what they actually are in front of you.

And that’s where I found myself at the end of my most recent relationship — a four-year-long chapter that, when it closed, forced me to sit face-to-face with the patterns I had been carrying.

I’ve spent time since then reflecting on how my childhood wounds have shown up in my love life: the fear of abandonment, the hunger to be needed, the urge to overperform in order to be loved. And alongside that reflection has come an equally powerful realization: I am amazing. I am whole. I am enough.

To be loved by me is a privilege. To have access to my heart, my time, my body, my joy — that is a privilege. And not everyone is worthy of it.

I no longer compromise on certain things.

Let me be clear: I’m not talking about the little compromises that make relationships work — things like negotiating where to have dinner or picking a movie you’re both into. If I want pizza and you want pasta, cool, let’s figure it out. I’m not rigid or unreasonable. But when it comes to the core things, the big, life-shaping things, I will no longer bend myself into shapes I was never meant to hold.

I want to be with someone who will travel the world with me. Someone who doesn’t just see me, but fully sees me… all of me. Someone who witnesses my humanity in its entirety, who understands the complexities of who I am, especially as a Black femme navigating a world that constantly tries to shrink me.

Because here’s another thing I’ve learned: relationships are give and take.

They are not about one person constantly pouring while the other takes and takes. They are about mutuality, reciprocity, care. And yet, too often — particularly in my experiences dating straight men — I’ve found myself in dynamics where I’m expected to do all the giving. Men will say they want a partner, but what they really want is someone to take care of them. Someone to cook, to clean, to meet their sexual needs, to smooth over their rough edges, to carry the emotional labor, to make their lives easier. And in the process, I’m expected to watch my tone, to soften my truth, to perform perfection.

For what?

I want someone who will care for me, too. And I’ve learned how to care for myself in the most beautiful ways. I take myself on trips; I treat myself to dinners; I savor spa days; I cherish my own company. My self-esteem is no accident… it’s been built, brick by brick, through deep self-love and intentional healing. I’ve learned that no one will love me like I love me, and that’s not a loss. That’s a foundation.

So as I move forward, the most important relationship in my life will continue to be the one I have with myself.

I’ve come to realize how many times I’ve operated in ways that weren’t in alignment with what I truly want… ways that could never sustain a happy, healthy relationship. I overextended. I excused behavior I shouldn’t have. I clung to potential instead of accepting the reality in front of me. I settled.

I’m not doing that anymore.

I’m not loving people for who they might become. I’m loving people for who they are and if who they are isn’t enough, if it doesn’t align, then I am okay with letting go. I am okay with walking away. I am okay with standing in my own worth.

Because I know now, deep in my bones, that I am deserving. I’ve worked hard for the life I have, for the person I’ve become, for the joy I’ve cultivated. And I refuse to compromise on the things that matter most to me.

Yes, I’m still figuring things out. I’m still navigating when and if I want to step back into dating, or casual sex, or romantic connection. I’m praying that I can engage with my desires and needs in ways that are nourishing and not detrimental. That’s my prayer for everything right now — that I can honor what I want without abandoning myself in the process.

And here’s what’s beautiful: since leaving my last relationship, I’ve seen so many blessings unfold in my life.

I’ve received incredible news. I’ve stepped into opportunities I had only dreamed of. I’ve felt heavy and sad at times — of course I have; heartbreak and choosing to leave someone you once thought you’d spend the rest of your life with is never easy — but I’ve also felt light, free, clear. I’ve felt the universe affirming me, again and again, that when I choose myself, good things follow.

Another thing I’ve realized in all of this is that it’s nothing to be lusted after.

I’m attractive. Being desired sexually is not hard for me. But that’s not the kind of fulfillment I’m looking for. It’s easy to be wanted for your body, for the way you look, for the temporary high of sexual attraction. I want more. I want to be chosen, to be a priority, to be seen in my full humanity. I want to be loved not just for how I show up in someone’s bed, but for how I show up in the world.

And I’m not waiting on it.

If it happens, it happens. If it doesn’t, it doesn’t. In this season of my life, I am focused on loving me, on taking care of me, on honoring me.

Because here’s the thing: Black femmes are constantly told to settle for less. We are told to be grateful for crumbs, to shrink our desires, to make ourselves small. We are told that asking for more is too much, that we should accept what’s given, that we should be happy just to be invited into the room.

I’m not going for it.

I want the whole meal, not just the crumbs. I want love that is abundant, expansive, generous, and real. And until that comes, I will keep choosing myself, over and over again.

I will keep traveling, keep taking myself on dates, keep building the life I want. I will keep surrounding myself with people who see me and love me in the ways I deserve. I will keep listening to my intuition, letting it guide me toward alignment and away from anything that feels like scarcity or lack.

I’ve always wanted to feel chosen. And now, I realize: the most important person who can choose me is me.

So here’s to the season of self-love. Here’s to the blessings that come when we stop settling. Here’s to honoring our childhood wounds without letting them dictate our future. Here’s to knowing that we are worthy. Not someday, not when we’ve done more or become more or fixed more, but right now.

Here’s to being the love we’ve always wanted. ❤️