Sylvia P.

“Some of us write to survive not being loved back.” - Sylvia Plath.

To survive, she said. 

To survive . . .

We don't write because we aren't loved back, we write because we have to - because we don't know how to survive without being loved. It's our curse, not our gift.

Sylvia knew this. 

Her and I aren't loved, not truly. 

And,

It kinda fucking sucks sometimes. 

Yeah. 

Some days we bleed into our words because no one loves us. We don't even know if we are lovable the way we truly are. We're afraid we might have to conform to be loved and the only thing we ever wanted was to be uniquely ourselves. 

We spend so much of our lives just trying to figure out who we are. 

Some people will ask us to sacrifice that so they can love us the way they need to. 

I don't think Sylvia wanted to sacrifice who she was for someone else so they couldn't love her the way they needed to. No, I think she wanted to be loved for exactly who she was, but no one ever did, so she bled into poems.

I get it, Sylvia . . .

I really do. 

-CH 6/22/25