Love Hate 

According to my dodgy logic, someone can hate “me”. 

But if they try to love me, I wriggle around with questions as to how do they really know “me”? I hardly know myself. And I have to get books and heal wounds. 

I have been working on allowing myself to be loved. Opening up to the idea of trusting it. Surrender. It follows that equally, I have to allow myself to be hated. 

I can’t expect to be loved as a mysterious and curious being, and allow that, without accepting that people can also hate me for some mysterious and curious being that they perceive. I can be hated and that’s ok. 

The path to love, for me, lies just as much in hatred as it does in adoration. 

I really like that it turns out that way. 

 (Tip your phone when viewing image) 


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