Uncloaked

I Am Love

but not the kind you think I am
Not the one that begs to be needed
or folds itself into silence
just to be allowed to stay

I’ve been misunderstood for so long
I started wearing the misunderstanding
like a cloak

You called it devotion
I called it staying
But really
it was survival sewn into softness
a costume of care
draped over the fear of vanishing

We both mistook the costume for connection
I wore your comfort like fabric
but you handed me the thread
We called it closeness
but it was really a quiet agreement
to stay unseen
so long as we stayed together

I mirrored your ache
You mirrored mine
Neither of us realizing
we were fading in sync

I forgot that I was Love
And so did you

Because when I knocked, you heard pleading
When I stayed, you felt trapped
When I whispered
your body processed it as a threat

I don’t blame you
I barely recognized myself
beneath the layers

This misunderstanding predates us
passed from grandmother to mother
father to son
sibling to sibling
in a grotesque game of telephone

They called it protection
while practicing control
Called it guidance
while instilling fear
Survival patterns hardened into family mythology
the screaming need of adults
disguised as devotion to children

Small you wore their expectations
like an ill-fitting uniform
Became the family weather vane
spinning to predict every emotional storm
You forgot who I was meant to be
So did they
So did I

Then something happened
a mirror I didn’t ask for
sharp, maybe accidental
and there I was
me, beneath the mask

Not clinging
Not pleasing
Just being

So I started pulling it back
Bit by bit

I learned to breathe without holding my breath
To stay without disappearing
To give without becoming

I still wear the cloak sometimes
out of habit, or on harder days
but now I know
it’s a cloak
not a truth

Because Love
actual, uncloaked Love
doesn’t require hypervigilance
to maintain connection
Doesn’t demand the sacrifice of authenticity
on the altar of belonging
Doesn’t measure worth by usefulness

And it sure as hell
doesn’t perpetuate itself
through guilt, fear, or obligation

So if I say I love you now
I mean it bare-faced
breathing
holding nothing back
but finally
holding nothing in

I am Love
And I’m learning to live
uncloaked