TEACH YOUR HEART

Teach your heart

to accept disappointments,

to carry them like weather,

to cradle the silence left

when promises collapse.

Even from the people you love.

Especially from the people you love.

Because love does not erase flaws,

and devotion does not guarantee consistency.

Sometimes, it’s a friend

who forgets the birthday you always remembered.

Sometimes, it’s a parent

who cannot give the tenderness you craved,

even after decades of waiting.

Sometimes, it’s a partner

who promises forever,

but forgets to show up on the ordinary Tuesdays.

And sometimes, it’s your grown child

who doesn’t call as often as they should,

while you sit by the window,

remembering the nights you never slept

because they needed you.

Teach your heart to breathe through these moments.

To forgive without erasing.

To grieve without closing.

To soften without breaking.

In your 20s, disappointments come like thunder,

loud, consuming, unforgettable.

In your 40s, they come like a heavy rain,

predictable, survivable,

you know when to bring an umbrella.

By your 60s, they come like mist,

still chilling,

but you’ve learned how to walk through it

without losing your way.

Teach your heart this:

the people you love will stumble,

just as you will.

They will forget, fail, misunderstand,

just as you have.

And it does not mean

the love was false,

it means the love was human.

So let your heart accept the cracks,

like light filtering through stained glass.

Teach it to hold pain

without making a home out of it.

Teach it to forgive

not to erase the past,

but to free the future.

Because broken trust

is not the end of you,

it is proof you were brave enough to trust at all.

And when your heart grows tired,

remind it:

You are still whole,

even with the disappointments.

You are still worthy,

even with the scars.

You are still love,

even when others forget to be.