The Only Love I’ve Ever Needed

While working with a client, I heard these words clearly:

The only love you have ever needed is your own.

Pause with that.

Let it land in the body before the mind rushes in to interpret it.

The only love you have ever needed is your own.

Before I go further, I want to share something about how this came through.

This happened inside the open channel of Heart Breath.

Heart Breath is the practice at the center of my work. It is a somatic, heart-centered listening space where breath becomes the bridge between sensation and spirit. In this open channel, we do not force insight. We soften into it. We allow what is already present in the body to reveal itself.

Nothing is manufactured there. Nothing is performed. We breathe. We listen. And what is ready rises.

And what rose during that moment, was that sentence.

The only love you have ever needed is your own.

When you allow the love you are to turn toward you, nothing is missing.

Most of us were never explicitly taught that love lives outside of us. We were taught to invest in a story.

A story where love is found in the arms of another.
Where someone arrives to rescue us from the despair of not being loved.
Where being chosen, seen, and received finally makes us whole.

This is the myth we inherited.

The one we learned to breathe.

And when we begin to notice how this story lives in the body, in the chest, in the ache, in the reaching, something softens.

Not loss.
Not absence.

Space.

As the inheritance loosens, the heart begins to sense what it has always known.

We are invited to let go.
To let the love that we are catch us as we fall.

To fall back into the arms of ourselves.
To fall back through the unraveled myth and into the mystery.

Even now, at fifty one, after feeling how much love surrounds me, I still notice moments of searching.

Moments of needing.
Wanting reassurance that who and what I am matters.

This is true even with the love of family.

Even with the love of my wildly beautiful children, and my amazing, loving husband.

As I move further into my own love story, a living relationship with myself, with the divine, and with all of life, I begin to recognize where the ache of not being fully met still lives.

And this is where the myth reveals itself.

Because I am realizing, more and more, that I don’t need more reassurance.
More validation.
More approval.

I need more of me to be met by me.

In the quiet.
In the softening.
In the loosening of the story.

In the embrace of the eternal.

When I retreat into the love that I am, I receive everything I’ve been longing for.

And paradoxically, this doesn’t pull me away from relationship. It deepens me into it.

It makes me a better partner, a better friend, a better mother. A more devoted explorer of the unconscious, the mystery, the mind, and the heart.

Not because I need less love—but because love has returned to its source.

This is a living transmission for me. One that continues to evolve.

I share it because I don’t exempt myself from the awakening journey of life.

I want to be revealed within its tenderness.

I want those who know me to know that I journey with you.

I want those who trust me to listen to their hearts to know how deeply I am listening to mine.

This moment of quiet rewriting, this returning from myth to mystery, deepens with every breath and brings us back to the sacred heart we are.

How do you hear your love story being rewritten?