I wonder about you sometimes.
What makes you laugh so hard that you forget to be serious for a minute? What keeps you up at night? Have you loved before? Have you ever given so much of yourself to someone that you had to find your way back to who you were?
I wonder what love has taught you, what it has taken from you, and whether, somewhere beneath it all, you still believe in the kind of love that makes you feel lucky to be alive.
And sometimes, I wonder if you're ready for me.
Not just ready to find a woman. Not ready for a relationship because you're lonely.
I mean, are you ready for me?
Because, my love, I have a lot of love to give. But I've learned that love alone isn't enough. I've known what it feels like to walk on eggshells, make myself smaller, and wonder whether asking for a little more affection would somehow push someone away. I've given too much, adjusted too much, and hoped that if I loved someone enough, eventually they would love me the way I needed to be loved.
I don't want to do that to myself again.
I want to choose you from a place of freedom, not fear. To be with you because, out of all the lives I could live, yours is the one I want to share. And I hope you choose me for the same reason.
I hope you're a man who knows himself. Strong, but not so fragile that he needs to win every argument. Confident enough to stand his ground, humble enough to admit when he's wrong, and secure enough to let the woman he loves shine.
I hope you have kind eyes. The kind I can look into and feel that I don't have to protect myself from you. I hope there's gentleness in you, but also fire. Ambition. Quiet confidence. The kind of strength that doesn't need to announce itself.
In a way, I want Shiva. Gentle and strong. Stillness and power. A man who can hold his own in the world and hold me when I need somewhere to fall.
Because, my love, I can handle a lot on my own. I have handled a lot on my own. But there is something beautiful about having a person with whom you don't always have to be strong.
Imagine me coming home after a difficult day, putting my head against your chest, and letting myself be held. Sometimes I'll need your advice. Sometimes you'll need to tell me I'm overthinking something. And sometimes, I'll just need to be your girl for a little while.
I hope you understand that being gentle with the woman you love doesn't make you any less of a man. That supporting her, celebrating her, and making her feel safe doesn't diminish you. It makes the relationship richer for both of you.
I hope you are my biggest cheerleader. That you get excited about my ideas, challenge me when you know I can do better, and tell me the truth even when it's uncomfortable. I want you to look at my ambitions and say, Go on, baby. Show them what you can do.
And when you have a dream of your own, I hope you know you'll have someone in your corner, cheering just as loudly.
I want to know what makes you come alive. To hear you talk about the things you love, see you chase the things that matter to you, and remind you of who you are on the days you forget. I'll be proud of you, not just because of what you achieve or how much money you make, but because of the man you become along the way.
I hope you're ambitious, intelligent, and curious about the world. That you have your own opinions and the confidence to stand by them. That you can hold a room when you need to, but don't need to be the centre of attention all the time. That you have impeccable taste, a generous heart, and a sense of humour that gets me laughing when I'm taking myself too seriously.
Let's travel. Get lost in cities we've never visited, find little restaurants that become our places, try things we've never tried, and collect stories that will make us laugh years later. Let's build a life with adventure, meaningful work, good health, beautiful experiences, and enough money that we can make choices based on what we want, not what we're afraid we can't afford.
I hope we both have the courage to build something we're proud of, individually and together.
But beneath all your ambition and confidence, I hope there's a man who knows he doesn't have to be extraordinary every second to be loved. You don't always have to lead, provide, solve, or have the answers. I want to know the man behind all of that. The one who sometimes gets scared, who has doubts he doesn't talk about, who occasionally needs someone to tell him he's doing better than he thinks.
You can put down the armour with me.
Tell me what you're afraid of, what you dream about, and what you're still figuring out. Let me see the parts of you that don't make it into the stories you tell everyone else. I promise to meet your honesty with curiosity, not judgment, and to never use your vulnerabilities as weapons when we're angry.
I hope you'll offer me the same grace.
I have my own history, my own fears, and my own ways of protecting myself that I'm still learning to let go of. Sometimes I may need reassurance. Sometimes I may struggle to believe that something good can stay good.
But I'm willing to do the work. I'll learn to tell you what I need instead of expecting you to guess. I'll give you room to be human without abandoning my own boundaries. I'll do my best not to make you pay for what someone else did to me.
I want to love well without abandoning myself again.
And I hope you're a man who is willing to meet me there.
I don't want to spend our love story trying to heal someone who refuses to look at himself. I don't want to be your mother, your therapist, or the only person responsible for keeping our relationship alive.
I want a partner. A man who is doing his own work, who knows that love isn't just a feeling you fall into but something you keep choosing through your actions.
We'll get things wrong. We'll misunderstand each other, get tired, get irritated, and occasionally annoy the absolute hell out of each other. I don't need us to be perfect. I need us to know how to come back to each other.
To disagree without turning each other into the enemy. To apologise when we're wrong. To have difficult conversations without threatening the whole relationship. To remember that we're on the same side, even when we don't see things the same way.
I hope we make each other better, not because either of us is incomplete, but because life is more interesting when you have someone beside you who keeps asking, What else can we become?
And I hope there's plenty of room for softness in our life together.
I want to be affectionate, playful, nurturing, and a little ridiculous with you. I'll make your favourite meal, steal your clothes, send you things that remind me of you, and touch your face when I notice you're tired. I want you to feel admired. To know that I see you, that I'm proud of you, and that I don't take your love for granted.
I'll celebrate your wins as though they're my own. I hope you do the same for me.
Neither of us should have to shrink to make the other feel powerful. We can have our own lives, dreams, and identities, and still build something extraordinary together. I hope you're secure enough to stand beside a woman with a big life, just as I'll stand beside you while you build yours.
And, my love, I hope you know how much I desire you.
I imagine looking at you across a room and feeling that little pull in my stomach. Noticing your hands, your shoulders, the way you move, the way your voice sounds when you're sleepy. Finding you ridiculously attractive in ways that probably make no sense to anyone else.
I imagine catching you looking at me when you think I'm not paying attention. Knowing you still find me beautiful when I'm wearing your old T-shirt, my hair is a mess, and I haven't done a single thing to make myself look presentable.
I want to feel sexy around you. Not because I'm trying to keep your attention, but because of the way you look at me. The way you touch me. The way you make me feel like you can't quite believe you get to have me.
I hope we have the kind of chemistry that doesn't disappear when the novelty wears off. A sex life full of trust, laughter, tenderness, and hunger. I hope we can talk about what we want, what we're curious about, and what makes us feel good without shame or fear of being judged.
Sometimes, I want to kiss you in the middle of a sentence because I suddenly can't help myself. Sometimes, I want to curl up against you and feel your fingers running through my hair. And sometimes, I want you to pull me closer and take the lead.
I want that delicious feeling of knowing exactly who I'm with and still wanting him more. To let go because I trust the man holding me, because I know you see me as a person, not just a woman you desire.
I want to be able to surrender without disappearing.
There is a difference, and I hope we both understand it.
I think about our future sometimes, too. About the home we'll build and the life that will slowly become ours. And, if we both want it, I imagine a little girl. Our daughter, whether she comes from my body or finds her way to us through adoption.
I wonder what she'll be like. Whether she'll have your eyes or my stubbornness. What kind of parents we'll become together.
I imagine watching you with her, her little hand wrapped around one of your fingers, you looking at her as though the world has suddenly become a little more precious.
I hope she grows up watching us love each other well. That she sees a father who is strong and gentle, and a mother who is loved, respected, and free to pursue her dreams. I hope she learns that a woman can be ambitious and loving, independent and deeply connected to someone else. That love doesn't require her to become smaller.
I hope we build a home full of books and music, good food, friends, laughter, and little things we've collected from places we've been. A home where we can have long dinners, talk about our dreams, be completely ridiculous, and still enjoy doing absolutely nothing together.
A home where you can walk through the door and know that you are loved here. Not because of your income, your achievements, or what you can do for everyone else.
Because you are you.
And I hope we never lose sight of the little things while we're busy building the big life.
I want to know which side of the bed you always steal, what you order when you're trying to be healthy, and which stories you've told a hundred times. I want our own collection of memories, jokes, places, and little looks that nobody else would understand.
I imagine a lazy Sunday morning, sunlight coming through the windows, the smell of coffee filling the room. You're reading something on your phone while I tell you about a dream I had, and you look up and listen because you know I need to tell you the whole thing.
I steal a sip of your coffee. You complain about it. I kiss you anyway.
I want a hundred thousand ordinary mornings like that.
I want the big adventures, the work we're proud of, the financial freedom, the family, the life we build. But I also want the quiet certainty of knowing that, whatever happens outside our home, we have each other to come back to.
Not because we'll always have the answers, but because we know we don't have to figure everything out alone.
I don't know when we'll meet. Maybe we'll recognise each other immediately. Maybe it will take a few conversations before something clicks. Maybe an ordinary day will turn out to be the beginning of everything.
For now, I hope you're out there living. Taking care of yourself. Learning, growing, making mistakes, trying again, and figuring out what kind of man you want to be. I hope you're building a life you love rather than waiting for someone to make it meaningful.
I am doing the same.
I have dreams to chase, a woman to become, and a life to live. I'm not putting any of that on hold while I wait for you.
But there is room for you in the life I'm building. Room for your dreams, your opinions, your ridiculous jokes, your softness, your strength, and your hand in mine.
And now, my love, I have to ask you something.
When you read this, do you see yourself?
Not the man you tell people you are. Not the man you imagine becoming someday, when work settles down, when you're less busy, when you've made enough money, when you finally have time for love.
I mean you, as you are right now.
Can you love a woman without trying to control her? Can you celebrate her success without feeling threatened by it? Can you be proud of her strength and still enjoy being the person she leans on?
Can you be honest when the truth is uncomfortable? Can you apologise when you're wrong? Can you keep choosing a woman after the excitement of the beginning settles into the ordinary days of a shared life?
Can you let someone know you deeply without keeping a part of yourself permanently out of reach?
Can you be loved without running from it when it starts to feel vulnerable?
And are you ready to give that love back?
I don't ask because I expect you to be perfect. I ask because I want us to be honest about what we're ready for. I'll meet you as you are, but I won't build a future around the man you might become if you ever decide to show up.
I'm not looking for a perfect man.
I'm making room for a real one.
A man who reaches for my hand in a crowded street. Who kisses my forehead when I'm tired. Who looks at me across a room and still feels that little pull in his chest. Who stands beside me when the world gets difficult and pulls me close when the world gets quiet.
A man who lets me love him deeply, and loves me with the same courage.
I don't need you to save me. I want to stand beside you, hand in hand, while we make a life that neither of us wants to escape from.
I want to love you in a way that makes you proud of the man you are. And I hope you love me in a way that makes me feel free to be the woman I am.
I want the passion, the laughter, the hard conversations, the adventures, the family, the quiet mornings, and all the ordinary things that become extraordinary when you get to share them with the right person.
Not a fantasy where nothing ever goes wrong. Not a perfect man who never disappoints me. Not a love that exists only when everything is easy.
You. The real you. And I hope you want the real me.
And when our paths finally cross, I hope we recognise what we've found. I hope we take care of it. I hope we never become so comfortable with being loved that we forget what a privilege it is to be known by another person and chosen anyway.
I hope that years from now, long after the first dates and nervous kisses, I'll still catch you looking at me when you think I'm not paying attention.
I'll raise an eyebrow and ask what you're staring at.
And I hope you'll smile, pull me into your arms, and kiss me like you still can't quite believe I'm yours.
Because I'll be thinking the same thing about you.
Yours,
The woman who hopes to meet you when we're both ready.