“What if I fail?”

“That’s okay, I still love you.”

 

Disbelief. Then, a wave of relief washed over me like receiving a warm blanket after standing in the cold for so long. It’s okay. Just that. Two words that seem to relieve my soul from all the pressure I’ve been carrying. For someone like me, wired since I was young to equate achievements to my worth, hearing those words felt like relieving me from everything that was tying me down.

 

Achievement wasn’t simply a goal for me, it was something to protect me, my language, my shaky sense of self and proof that I belong here. Failure was something else, it wasn’t familiar, it felt like an annihilation. It means I was less, I am not deserving of care. Every mistake, everything I lack is a reminder of me not being good enough. It was exhausting, always trying my best and always feeling like I am not good.

 

But then he came. He said it casually, so natural, relieving decades of pressure like finally opening a locked door. “That’s okay, I still love you.” No hesitation. Just genuine, quiet truth. My system was not used to it, it wasn’t familiar. Love wasn’t supposed to be this… peaceful and steady. It wasn’t supposed to be holding you when you fall or to be tending you when you’re wounded. For me, it was supposed to be a prize, something to be earned once I achieve things, conditional.

 

It was solace, that was you offered me not because I feel like I got the permission to fail but the fact that you made me realize that I am not losing everything once I fail, that the ground I walk on will be bound to have some obstacles I cannot cross without tripping. Failure isn’t something to be afraid of anymore, it was imply human to fail. And he reminded me that he was still there, not an attempt to be a hero, not an attempt to fix, not judging but he was simply just there. That presence turned the cycle of doubt into something tolerable because you already gave an answer so certain and reassuring: “You’re still you, and I’m still gonna be here.”

 

For that I am forever grateful for it felt like discovering a space where I can simply be. Thankful for loving me through the rough crafts, the failing grades, the days when I can’t be at my 100%. A gratitude for showing me love that need not be earned but a presence at my side, a hand to gently hold and a voice saying “You are still great, no matter what.” Failure now isn’t the end, or excruciatingly painful but instead it is just a moment of lapses that I could improve and learn on. And the love that I constantly receive from you, is the safest space I’ve ever been to.