I’ve been thinking about reciprocity again and it came up in a way I’ve seen before. Old feeling. Familiar.
It’s that space where I start giving a little more than feels true. Checking in, showing up, holding space. Somewhere in that, there’s this subtle hope… that it comes back. That I’ll be met there. That I’ll be noticed. That I’ll be supported in the same way.
But I’m not actually saying anything. Not naming what I need. Not being clear. Just hoping they feel it. Then when they don’t, it stings a bit. It’s easy to feel let down. To wonder why it’s not being returned.
Then I sit with it…noticing.. this part is mine, because that’s not reciprocity. That’s me slipping into an old way of relating. Giving past my own edge. Calling it connection and leaving my needs unspoken underneath it.
I’ve done this enough times now to recognize it when it starts.
Reciprocity feels different. It’s cleaner. There’s clarity. There’s honesty. There is a palpable weightlessness to true reciprocal relationships. There’s a willingness to say what’s actually true, even if it feels uncomfortable, and there’s also a willingness to see what’s really there… instead of what I hoped it would be.
No blame in it. Just awareness.
Just me, circling back again, and choosing to meet myself a little more honestly this time.
~ From Jolaine, With Love
