In the Waiting, I Bloom

Right now, I feel like I’m running out of time. My mother is gone. My father is 63. I am unmarried, no prospects, no children. And yet, my heart is full of dreams—of love, of family, of a future where I feel safe and seen. I grieve not just what I’ve lost but the time I wasted—pouring love into men who never deserved it, waiting to be chosen when I should have just chosen myself.

There were two men I truly believed could have been life partners, but sometimes I wonder—was it ever real? Or was I just desperate for love, settling for something that felt almost right because the other options were so wrong? The truth is, I still don’t know. But what I do know is that I’m done romanticizing people who never showed up for me the way I needed. They were never the ones. They were just lessons, mirrors reflecting the parts of me that still needed healing.

And still, in the midst of this grief, I find gratitude. My father is here. He is proud of me. He loves me. I want him at my wedding. I want him to meet my children, hold them, guide them, be a part of their lives in a way that feels whole and present. I have faith that the love I seek is already seeking me. That my future partner—a man who is kind, loving, supportive, and who I am deeply, genuinely attracted to—will come into my life when the time is right. And when he does, I’ll be ready.

I mourn the years I didn’t handle myself with care, the times I betrayed myself, settling for less than I deserved. I grieve for the younger me who didn’t yet know her worth. I am angry at her, and I am heartbroken for her, but more than anything, I am proud of her. She carried me here. She did the best she could with what she had. And now, it’s time for me to take over.

I am evolving. I am growing. I am healing.

I pray that this version of Zar—the more healed, more whole version—finds a love that is true, aligned, and divine. A love that feels like home. And when he walks in, I pray that everything will be exactly as it should be—not perfect, but excellent.

Because nothing in this life is perfect, but when it’s right, when it’s real, it is enough.