You should be loved

for everyone who forgot they are worthy of more

I don’t know who needs to hear this today, but let me scream it into your bones: you should be loved. And no, I don’t mean the watered-down, fragile, half-hearted version of love the internet keeps selling you. I don’t mean the kind of love that’s polite when it’s convenient, the kind that ghosts you for days and shows up only when it’s easy. I don’t mean someone saying “ily” at midnight and making you doubt if they meant it by morning. I mean love. The kind that doesn’t flinch when you’re messy. The kind that doesn’t leave when life gets inconvenient. The kind that chooses you every damn day.

Because somewhere along the way, we got tricked into believing that the bare minimum was enough. That someone shows respect towards women suddenly makes them exceptional. Excuse me? That’s literally the ground floor. A woman is “loyal” and suddenly she’s a saint, no, that’s literally what being in a relationship means. That’s not a personality trait; that’s basic human decency. That’s not applause-worthy. That’s the standard. And the fact that we treat “not cheating” or “not being a complete jerk” like it’s some kind of prize to win it makes me want to scream.

Like, are we really here? Are we really clapping for people because they didn’t betray us today? Because they texted back with something more than a dry “k”? Because they gave us crumbs and we called it a meal? How did love, actual, deep, consuming love get reduced to this pitiful checklist of things people should already be doing?

It’s not just relationships. It’s everywhere. Friendships too. We’re out here convincing ourselves that the friend who only calls when they need something “still cares.” That the one who keeps forgetting our birthdays but shows up once every six months is “trying.” That the friend who never celebrates our wins but always shows up for the gossip is “just busy.” No. Stop it. That’s not love. That’s convenience. That’s people doing the least, and us bending ourselves into knots just to call it something more.

And family? Oh, don’t even get me started. People think family automatically equals love as if blood is some magic shield that excuses cruelty, silence, neglect. But let’s be honest: not everyone was born into love. Some of us had to claw it out of the smallest places. Some of us had to raise ourselves emotionally because the people who were supposed to show us love only knew how to hand out criticism, comparison, and silence. And yet we still sit there telling ourselves, “at least they stayed.” But is staying the same as loving? No.

Let me tell you something raw and maybe a little painful: most people never get the love they want. Most people settle. They learn to sip water from a leaking faucet and call it an ocean. They learn to treat apologies like gifts instead of bare necessities. They learn to live on crumbs and convince themselves they’re full. And that breaks me. That makes me want to grab every single one of you by the shoulders and shake you until you understand: you deserve better.

You deserve a partner who doesn’t make you second-guess your worth. You deserve friends who show up on the boring days, not just the fun ones. You deserve a family or a chosen family that doesn’t weaponize love like it’s conditional. You deserve to be celebrated, not tolerated and loved, not endured.

And don’t tell me I’m being unrealistic. Don’t tell me I’m too idealistic, too delusional. Guess what? Maybe we need a little delusion. Because this world is trying every day to convince us to lower the bar. To make “the least they could do” sound like the most. To sell us on survival instead of fulfillment. And if believing in real, unshakeable, breathtaking love makes me delusional, then good, I’ll wear that label like a crown. Be delusional with me. Believe in love like it still matters. Believe that flowers just because, forehead kisses, tight hugs in the middle of an anxiety spiral, and honest conversations at 2 a.m. are still possible.

Because they are. Because we should not stop asking for them. Because you don’t get extra points for suffering. You don’t get a trophy for staying with someone who half-loves you. You don’t get rewarded for lowering your needs so that someone else’s bare minimum feels like “enough.”

And let me yell this louder: you don’t have to earn love. You don’t need to shrink yourself to deserve it. You don’t have to be prettier, smarter, richer, calmer, thinner, or stronger. You don’t need to bleed yourself dry to finally be worthy. You don’t need to keep proving your value over and over like some unpaid intern begging for a permanent position in someone’s heart.

Love is not supposed to be this impossible thing. It’s not supposed to feel like you’re constantly auditioning for a role. It’s not supposed to be a battlefield where the prize is just being treated decently. Love is supposed to feel like safety. Like home. Like you can finally exhale after holding your breath for years.

So please, stop normalizing pain as proof of love. Stop telling yourself that “at least they came back” makes the leaving okay. Stop saying “at least they apologized” when the hurt could’ve been avoided in the first place. Stop settling for half-effort because you’re scared of being alone. Being alone is hard, yes. But being unloved while lying next to someone is worse.

Let me leave you with this: you should be loved. Deeply. Loudly. Consistently. In friendships, in relationships, in family, in life. You deserve to be loved when you’re glowing and when you’re broken, when you’re kind and when you’re messy, when you’re easy and when you’re difficult. You should be loved not just in your highlight reel, but in the behind-the-scenes mess.

And here’s the other thing, because I’m not done, I can’t stop here. I need you to hear this: there are nights when some of you are sitting in the dark, staring at your phone, waiting for a text that never comes. There are mornings you wake up and your chest feels heavy because the person you wanted to matter to didn’t even think of you. And you convince yourself, “Well, maybe that’s just how life is, maybe that’s all I get.” No. That’s not all you get. That’s not all you deserve.

You deserve someone who makes you feel chosen without you having to beg. You deserve to be thought of without having to remind people that you exist. You deserve to be loved so loudly that silence never feels like rejection again. Do you hear me? You should not be in a world where your worth depends on whether someone decides you’re convenient enough to answer.

And the saddest part is, we’ve all seen people begging for love in the smallest ways. People post a story, hoping the right person replies. People drop hints, hoping their friend notices they’re not okay. People laugh too loudly in groups, hoping someone actually looks at them. We’ve all done it, haven’t we? Little ways of saying: “Please, please notice me. Please, please care.” And most of the time, it gets ignored. It breaks my heart because that’s how low the bar has been set that we beg for the simplest gestures of attention and call it love when it finally arrives.

But no. Love is not crumbs. Love is not half-effort. Love is not someone remembering you when they’re bored. Love is supposed to feel like certainty, not constant doubt. Love is supposed to feel like warmth, not a puzzle you’re always trying to solve.

And I know what you’re thinking, “but the world is cruel, people are selfish, maybe that’s just how it is.” No. Stop letting the world’s brokenness convince you to shrink your expectations. Stop letting the normalization of pain convince you that love is dead. Because love isn’t dead, it’s just buried under all the noise, under all the people who gave up too soon, under all the ones who chose convenience over depth.

Be delusional. I’m begging you. Be delusional enough to believe that somewhere out there, someone will look at you and think, “God, how lucky am I?” Be delusional enough to believe that friendships can be soft and safe and reliable. Be delusional enough to believe that there’s a corner of this world where you won’t have to beg to be loved, you’ll just be loved.

Because let me say it again, louder than before, in case you still don’t believe it: you should be loved.

If this finds you at the right time,
And you’d like to support my work
You can do that here: Buy me a coffee☕🤎

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I also wrote a little book called “For All the Wrong Reasons.”
It’s about a girl who moves to a small autumn town called Maplewood… only to find herself falling for her roommate’s boyfriend. It’s a story about wanting someone you probably shouldn’t, and all the messiness that follows.

If you’re a member of Hasif’s Porchlight Club ($3/month), you can read it for free.
Or, you can grab it on its own for $5.

Join the club here or
Buy the book here

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And if these words lit even the smallest fire in you, don’t keep it locked inside. Write. Spill. Scream onto the page. I want to hear your voice.

I’m opening up submissions for essays to be featured on Postcards by Hasif. The deadline is 30th September. Send your piece to hasifnewsletters@gmail.com.

For full details, read the post Submit Your Essays and Get Featured. And make sure you subscribe to

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