I wish someone loved me for who I truly am, flaws and all. I know I am far from perfect. I am aware of my mistakes. I carry the weight of those missteps every day, and I am sorry for them. I’m working on them, I’m still learning, trying to improve, but it feels like this world has little room for forgiveness. Once you reach a certain point, it’s as if the countless good things you’ve done no longer matter. People seem to forget the love and kindness you’ve shown, focusing instead on the mistakes you’ve made. It’s hard to feel seen for the good in me when the world shines its harsh light on my faults.

I’m beginning to wonder if this world has any mercy left for me. Is there no room for compassion anymore? There’s an expectation for us to be “good” all the time, to avoid mistakes, to never falter. But I am only human, and my flaws are part of me. I can only make mistakes to a certain point before I am written off, judged, or discarded. And the weight of that expectation, the need to be perfect, is exhausting. I need rest—rest from the relentless pressure to be something more, something flawless, when all I am is human.

Is there someone out there who can love me even at my worst? When I am the most unlovable, the most broken, will someone still hold space for me? I long for a love like that because that’s the kind of love I have to give. My heart is full of forgiveness, of understanding, of compassion for those I love. Yet for all the good I am, it feels like the spotlight is always on my bad side. The parts of me that fall short, that don’t measure up, seem to be all that others see.

Rest. I need rest from the constant judgment, from the need to prove that I am good enough. Is compassion just a memory, something that once existed but no longer thrives in this world? Are we capable of loving fully, with all our flaws, or is this world truly devoid of mercy and understanding?

I search for that kind of love—a love that holds on, that stays, even when I am at my worst. A love that sees me fully, good and bad, and chooses me anyway. But in this harsh, unforgiving world, it’s easy to wonder if such love exists. Until I find it, I ask for rest. Rest from the pressure, the weight, the relentless need to be more than I am. Rest for my soul, my heart, my mind.

If there is still compassion in this world, if there is still love that holds onto us even when we are unlovable, I hope to find it. Until then, all I long for is rest.