💫 From Possession to Presence: Rewriting the Script of Love

powerthrouple33
Jun 19, 2025
2 min read

I grew up believing that love meant ownership.

That to be loved was to be chosen, and to be chosen was to be possessed.

I was taught to find safety in “belonging to someone.”

To take pride in being claimed.

And for a while, I did.

I wore the rings.

Said the vows.

Swallowed the verses.

I shaped my entire self around this one idea:

“I am loved when I am someone’s.”

But beneath that language of commitment lived an entire theology of control.

Of scarcity.

Of fear.

Because if someone owns you, then you can be lost.

You can be replaced.

You can fail to meet the expectations of their possession—and that failure becomes the justification for withdrawal, rejection, punishment.

And that’s not love.

That’s codependency with a cross on it.

✨ The Divine Discomfort of Awakening

Deconstructing that belief was not a clean break.

It didn’t come all at once.

It came in layers.

In pain.

In late-night heartbreak and early morning revelations.

It came in moments like this morning—when I gave my partners space to connect without me.

And instead of anxiety… I felt peace.

Instead of fear… I felt fullness.

Because I wasn’t being left out.

I was holding space.

I wasn’t being forgotten.

I was being present—with myself, with them, and with the love that exists beyond grasping.

Presence isn’t passive.

It’s powerful.

It says: I trust myself enough not to control you.

I love you enough to let you be free.

And I love myself enough to know that I am still whole—whether I am the center of the moment or not.

🕊 From “Mine” to “With”

True love doesn’t say “You are mine.”

It says “I am with you.”

Not over you.

Not owning you.

Not evaluating your worth based on your proximity to my needs.

And that’s what sacred, spiritually grounded relationships look like.

They move from possession to presence.

From ownership to overflow.

From fear to freedom.

We don’t get there all at once.

We get there by noticing.

By untangling.

By holding ourselves in the middle of the trigger and saying, “Oh… this is where the old script would have grabbed for control. But I choose something else now.”

That is holy rebellion.

That is embodied love.

That is freedom.

🌀 Reflection Prompts:

Where did I learn that love = control?
What version of me needed to be “owned” to feel safe—and what does that version need now?
How would love look if it was built on presence, not possession?