Lit by a Candle, Loved by My Own Hands

A monologue for healing, clarity, and truth

⸻

I didn’t think I could ever do this.

I didn’t think I would be this woman.

But here I am — telling the truth of it.

Softly. But clearly.

I told myself I never would.

That it went against everything I believed in.

I lived through the betrayal.

I’ve been the one left in the shadows before.

And now… somehow…

I’ve stepped into the very shadow I swore I’d never cast.

I’ve sat across from myself with shaking hands.

I’ve cried for the version of me that said no —

and then slowly, over time… started saying maybe.

It started as a friendship.

Years of scattered conversations,

growing roots in the cracks of my life.

Until one day, the ache turned real.

The lines blurred.

I told him this wasn’t who I wanted to be.

That it wasn’t fair to her —

or to me.

He said he understood.

Said he needed time.

Said he’d been meaning to make changes

long before we ever crossed that line.

But time has a funny way of stretching,

when someone else holds the clock.

He gave me company.

Conversations.

Bought me a van.

Helped me move.

But the thing I needed most?

Presence.

The kind that stays —

even when the phone clicks off.

The kind that chooses you,

in the light of day.

And the more I listened to him,

the more I heard echoes of the man I once married.

The way he spun time like it was thread.

The way he said just enough to make me stay.

But this time…

I saw it from the other side.

And all it did was confirm:

the only one who ever really wins in these stories…

is the one in the middle.

And I am not the middle.

I’ve started to realize…

I’m not the one who’s confused.

I know what I want.

I know what I value.

I know what love is supposed to feel like —

not just when it’s convenient,

not just when it’s easy.

Love… shows up.

Not just with money,

or promises,

or words typed in the middle of the night.

It shows up when you’re tired.

When there’s nothing to gain.

When nobody’s watching.

I’ve learned that a person can adore you in pieces…

but still never offer you the whole.

And I deserve the whole.

I deserve a love that stays in the room,

even when life gets messy.

One that doesn’t make me feel like a visitor

in my own story.

So today,

I lit a candle.

I laid out the pieces I’ve carried —

the heavy ones,

the hollow ones,

the beautiful ones I didn’t know I could keep.

A few small rocks.

A couple seashells.

Nothing fancy.

But they feel like me.

And as the flame danced,

I remembered who I am.

Not someone waiting to be chosen.

Not someone living in between another person’s decisions.

I am the fire.

I am the shore.

I am the one who gets to choose me.

And that…

that is a love I can trust.