A love letter to the part of us that still hopes to be chosen.
Sometimes…
love doesn’t come with grand declarations or picture-perfect endings.
Sometimes, it arrives like a question.
Half-whispered.
Half-held.
A hand lingering just a second longer.
A message typed and deleted.
Again.
A silent plea hiding behind brave eyes.
We dance.
You — with your armor.
Me — with my longing.
You avoid.
I pursue.
And somewhere between your silence and my ache…
we’re just children again.
Two souls hoping, aching, quietly wondering: Will someone choose me this time?
Sometimes, I wish we could pause the performance.
Stop pretending we don’t care.
Stop building walls so fast.
Stop guarding what was never meant to be locked away.
Because love doesn’t always need to be a battlefield.
Sometimes, it can be a game.
A soft one.
A sacred one.
Where we both get to win — not by conquering each other, but by showing up. Fully. Tenderly. Honestly.
So here I am.
Asking not with pride, but with heart:
Will you play with me?
Will you stay long enough to see that this isn’t about winning or losing — it’s about remembering that love, at its core, is safe?
Because underneath it all…
we don’t want power.
We want presence.
We want the laughter, the mess, the leaning in.
We want someone who will say,
“Yes, I’ll play. Yes, I’ll stay. Yes, I’ll try again with you.”
✨ And if you’ve been dancing in that ache — between hope and hesitation — maybe it’s time to come home to yourself first.
The Slow Secrets Tribe is where we do that.
Where we soften our armor.
Where we choose connection over control.
Where we remember that the game was never about being perfect — it was about being present.
Come sit with us.
Come play again.
You don’t have to do this alone.
With all my love,
Julie
