As a hopeless romantic I long dreamt of my perfect guy; one who was chivalrous and exactly as Hollywood depicted in all those rom coms I devoured.

I dreamt of being swept off my feet, of a love that was unimaginable. A love that would fill my heart with pure joy and make me burst in excitement at just the thought of them.

But all of this was just a fantasy for me.

Long gone were the days I dreamt of walking arm in arm with the man I loved down the side walk, instead I totted behind as fast as my little legs could carry me while he walked ahead acting like he didn’t know me.

Long gone were the days I dreamt of falling asleep cuddling the man I loved and waking up next to him, instead I grew used to cuddling the blanket and waking up alone because he preferred to sleep on the couch.

Long gone were the days I dreamt of some show of love, proof he heard me and knew me better than anyone else, instead I learnt to spoil myself because nobody else was going to.

Long gone were the days I dreamt of relaxing side by side, both doing what we individually loved but together, instead I learnt my company was not welcomed and it was best we did things alone.

Long gone were the days I dreamt of having full trust and transparency with the person I loved and their’s in me, instead I was taught that their privacy was paramount and that couples shouldn’t know and share everything.

None of these sat well with me. Everything screamed “this is not what you wanted” yet I pushed through thinking this was the love I deserved.

It wasn’t.

I deserve a love who is proud of me. A love that would declare it to anyone who’s listening. I deserve a love who remembers the little things. A love that can’t help but show how much they love me.

I deserve a love that I once thought was unimaginable.