There is a gap
between what I carried
and what I finally allowed myself
to receive.
For years,
I stood there quietly,
hands full,
heart tired,
spirit still trying
to make beauty
out of absence.
I called it strength.
But some days,
It was loneliness
wearing good posture.
Some days,
It was me
pretending I did not need
the very love
My soul kept praying for
in private.
And then life,
in its luminous wisdom,
came close
and whispered:
Beloved,
The gap is not always emptiness.
Sometimes
It is the tender opening
where support
has been waiting
for your permission
to enter.
So I softened.
Not into weakness.
Into discernment.
I stopped calling isolation
independence.
I stopped mistaking endurance
for peace.
I stopped acting as though
My hands were full
when they were simply tired
from holding everything alone.
There is cogency
in telling the truth:
I need love.
I need care.
I need the kind of support
That does not make me feel
despondent
for needing it.
I need people
whose presence
has integrity.
People who do not arrive
with performance,
rancor,
or hidden conditions.
People whose love
feels like clean water
after a long season
of swallowing dust.
So I opened
the window of my spirit.
I let the old fallacies
about self-sufficiency
lose their dominion.
I let the ache
become a doorway.
And there,
in the quiet space
between longing
and receiving,
I found grace.
A hand extended.
A voice saying,
I am here.
A love
That did not ask me
to diminish myself
to be held.
Now I know:
The gap
was never the end
of the story.
It was the place
where my heart
learned to make room.
Room for tenderness.
Room for community.
Room for answered prayers.
Room for the kind of love
that arrives gently,
stays honestly,
and reminds me
I was never meant
to heal alone.
So I received it now.
Not cautiously.
Not apologetically.
But with both hands open,
my spirit softened,
my crown still intact.
And this time,
when love reaches for me,
I do not flinch.
I do not explain
why I need to be held.
I do not apologize
for being human.
I simply open.
I let the support in.
I let the bridge rise
beneath my feet.
And I walk across
the gap
with love on one side,
grace on the other,
and my whole heart
finally brave enough
to be carried–
© 2026 Sherley Delia. All rights reserved.
