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Impossible to Love

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I see you,

with your dimpled smile,

your tubby legs,

your first stumbling steps,

a complete trust in the universe

that nothing will harm you,

even as your harried mother

calculates all potential risks.

I see you grow suddenly

into a self-conscious girl,

with your quiet demeanor,

wide eyes studying the world,

and the slowly unfurling belief

that, surely,

you are impossible to love.

Do not listen to that voice, my dear.

It is not the voice of your friend.

It erupted out of thin air

with one simple mission in life:

to persuade you of this tragic lie.

This voice will say anything

to get your attention.

It will create fear

where once there was only joy,

shame, where there was self-acceptance,

doubt, where there was trust, divine.

Don’t listen to that voice, my dear.

You’re not impossible to love.

Your mother is just too busy

dealing with her own emotions

to register yours,

your father, too preoccupied providing you

the life he always desired.

 

As you grow into a most well-mannered lady,

with your caring ways

and bookish behavior,

don’t let the lie fester.

Don’t let it solidify.

You are not impossible to love.

Your teacher is just overwhelmed

by the rowdier kids in class,

your friends, navigating their own

positions of popularity,

that boy you like, oblivious

of your affection.

The love you seek from everyone else,

can only be found in One.

That is the One you must search for.

Pay no heed to the lies echoing

daily, inside your mind.

 

As you grow to develop a false veneer

of self-assuredness,

with your radiant energy

and analytical approach,

you make choices that will dictate

the direction of your life—

what to study,

where to live,

whom to marry.

Always remember,

you are not impossible to love.

Your husband just never learned how to love, himself,

your siblings, exhausted from caring for their own families,

your mentors, quietly dealing with their own inadequacies.

You are so busy pleasing everyone else,

you’ve forgotten the One

Who’s always there.

 

As you enter the daunting world

of motherhood,

you will finally realize,

you are not impossible to love.

Because this tiny being looks up at you

as if you were the moon and the stars.

This child’s love is pure and untainted,

abundantly supplied by the Source.

This child will love you,

but also,

antagonize you,

challenge you,

taunt you,

harass you.

Stay the course, no matter what.

Teach this child to love,

to listen,

to laugh,

to live.

Teach this child he is loved, inside and out,

not just by you,

but by the Artist

Who molded him to life

with One Breath.

 

As your hair turns silver

and your skin softens to the touch,

take a hammer to the lie that grew unchecked

within you.

Ignite a fire,

smoke out the debris

and finally see the truth for what it is.

You are loved beyond compare,

beyond measure,

beyond doubt.

Every single trial you faced

was proof of that love.

Every single tear you shed

was a gift from above.

Silence the liar in your head

who wanted only to control you.

And while you’re at it,

proclaim to the world,

to every single boy and girl,

every human, in every corner:

they are deeply and magnificently loved.

Uncover their eyes,

break down their walls,

pull them back from the precipice.

You are not impossible to love, my dears.

That’s the greatest lie ever told.

To you, belongs a Lover

Who has gifted you the world,

the oceans,

the forests,

the mountains,

the meadows.

To you, belongs a Lover

Who asks only for one thing,

and that is to remember Him.

Remember Him,

and He will remember you.

Forget Him,

and He will still remember you.

That is the depth of His love.

Because for Him,

even though nothing is impossible,

all He ever wanted

was to love you,

was for you to

love yourself.

-Nida Elley

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Nida Elley is a teacher, writer, and editor who has lived in New York, Austin, London, and now Lahore. Her blog, '“Lovelorn” (http://lovelorn.me), focuses on the disconnectedness so many people feel with the world around them. Her fiction was published by Bloomsbury UK in a Pakistani-themed, Jane Austen–inspired anthology, Austenistan (2018).