What I Ask the Universe For…

I ask for love. Someone who sees beyond what I show, who challenges me without diminishing me, who makes me want to stay without ever feeling I have to stop being who I am.

Sometimes, I imagine that encounter with almost unsettling clarity. The look, the chemistry, that inexplicable feeling of recognising something I have never experienced before.

But I rarely ask myself what will happen inside me when that person arrives.

There is an ancient story about a woman who longed to be united with the one she loved. Instead of simply waiting, she devoted herself to a long journey of discipline and transformation.

That story makes me think about the things I ask the universe for. What if the answer isn’t immediately what I ask for, but the work I need to do to receive it?

Not to become worthy of it. I don’t believe I need to suffer more, heal every wound, or transform myself into some perfect version of who I am to be loved.

But I know my patterns. I know how the past can disguise itself as desire, how the need for control can hide fear, and how sometimes the very things that protect me also prevent me from letting someone truly get close.

I’ve changed so many times. I’ve died and been reborn as so many different versions of myself that I know transformation isn’t always a choice. But perhaps there’s a difference between changing because life forces me to and looking within because I want to make room for something new.

Because asking for someone emotionally available also means asking myself whether I’m ready for the intimacy I long for. Asking to be seen means accepting that someone might see even the parts of me I haven’t yet learned to reveal. And wanting to build something different requires me to recognise what I no longer want to repeat.

I don’t know if the universe answers my requests in this way. I only know that wanting something and being ready to welcome it can be two different things.

Perhaps the waiting isn’t an empty space bet

ween the request and the answer. Perhaps it’s where I begin to understand what that desire awakens in me, what I still need to confront, and what I no longer want to carry with me.

Not so I can control the encounter. That will never be entirely in my hands.

But so that when it happens, I won’t be so busy protecting myself that I fail to truly experience it.

Perhaps the universe isn’t just preparing someone for me. Perhaps it’s preparing me for the encounter.

And perhaps the question isn’t simply, When will that person arrive?

Perhaps it’s this:

Is the woman I am today ready to receive what the woman I once was asked for so many times?