Hello My Love,

I know I don't make it easy to love me. I've got enough baggage to fit into one of those large planes I'm terrified of getting on. I never had a man show me the way I was supposed to be treated by other men. I didn't know what I was worthy of, if anything. I didn't know what I deserved, if anything. I didn't know if I was enough, which I'm still shaky on the idea that I am.

I knew the sexist, problematic, traditional ways a man was supposed to treat a woman. I knew that men were supposed to open the door for me, pay for meals, and always come to the front door when they picked me up. But I didn't know any of the important stuff.

I didn't know that the boys I give my heart to should also give their hearts to me. Instead, I let myself stand there with open arms just waiting to be wanted back, but having to walk away when my arms got too heavy. I didn't know that the only thing we should fight about is who loves the other one more. I didn't know that boys were supposed to want to hold my hand just because, or kiss me at red lights because they miss the feeling of my lips on theirs, or tell me how much they care about me with not only words, but touches, kisses, and looks. I didn't know that boys were supposed to make me laugh until my face hurt after tickling me even though I pretend to hate it. I didn't know that I deserved better than drunk college boys who just wanted my body. No one told me. No one taught me. No one showed me. Until you. Thank you.

Before you, I walked around thinking something was wrong with me. Something broken, weird, damaged, wrong. Something that made me unwanted. For years I thought it was the number inside my pants, the score I got on essays and exams, the number of pirouettes I could do. I tried too much to change these. In ways that were not only unhealthy, but dangerous. I thought no one would want to be with someone like me. But you do.

Most days I don't understand why, because most days I don't even want to be with me. But I'm trying. I'm learning. I can't undo 20 years of self-hate in the time we've been together. And you understand that.

Thank you for understanding that because every drop of my energy goes into trying to be perfect in all areas of my life, that the state of my bedroom and car is always a complete disaster.

Thank you for seeing me in a way I should've always been seeing myself. When you tell me I'm beautiful, I cry. I still don't completely understand why. Maybe it's because I'm shocked to hear someone say it. Maybe I just don't believe how anyone could ever think I was beautiful. Maybe it's because I trust you, and believe you, just a little.

Thank you for hugging me through the insecurities that never seem to go away, and understanding that it's never jealousy about another girl, but fear that I'm not deserving of a man as kind, compassionate, loving, funny and dorky as you.

Thank you for helping me get over my biggest fear—airports. The last time I was on an airplane I had a panic attack so severe that passengers were staring at me, flight attendants were flustered, and my mom was feeding me (prescribed) Xanax like they were Skittles. You held my hand, walked me through security, let me ask an array of random and strange questions, and stayed with me the entire time. I know it wasn't the most exciting date, but it was the one that meant the most.

Thank you for being the boy in the books I've been reading about my whole life. I've been writing stories that will someday become books, about you since before I knew you as a person. I just didn't know it. Thank you for being better than I ever could've written them. Thank you for showing me that boys might be better in the books, but you my love, are perfect just as the man you are.

Thank you for wrapping your arms around me and comforting me when I cry in your car. Sometimes the worries that I'm not good enough overwhelm me completely, and my mind won't stop obsessing about it. There's no off switch for anxiety. So you do the best thing anyone can do and just hold me close, tell me I am enough, tell me you love me- always and forever.

Thank you for loving me unconditionally. This concept of unconditional love is new to me. I've felt it towards countless people my entire life, but less than a handful of people have ever felt that for me, no men ever making that list. So when I worry I'm bothering you, boring you, not being sexy enough, skinny enough, attractive enough, or acting too needy, it's because I'm afraid you'll stop loving me if I'm not perfect, just like the man before you did. I know I'm a handful. I ask you a lot of questions. I cry more than most humans do. I am afraid of just about everything. I read way too much into what you say and over analyze your sentences and phrasing and tone. I obsess over things I shouldn't. But I can't help it, and you know that. You never let me apologize. You love me anyway.

I know you don't want to hear the same question over and over. I know you don't want to have to reassure me every single day of things you told me were true just the day before. I know you want me to just believe you when you tell me that you love me. But I can't. I'm scared. I know you love me. I just can't figure out why you or anyone would. Why you would want to be with me. Why you would choose me. I know that you want, choose, and love me. I can see it in the honesty of your eyes. But I can't see why I'm worthy or deserving of your love. But you're teaching me. In the kind words you say to me almost like a mantra for myself. In the gentle way you treat me, understanding I'm not perfect. In the way you love me. You love me, and because of that, I'm learning how to love myself too. And I know someday, someday I will.