Why a Type of Love Overwhelms Me

I read somewhere that we go our entire lives often seeking what we never had as a child.

I never felt love, the unconditional kind— the embracing, all around you, “you’re okay now” kind.

So sometimes, when I meet my friends’ parents or a make a new friend at church and they show that sort of love, even for a short moment, it overwhelms me. I can’t fight my reaction.

This iS how it feels—

It’s as if you’re outside in the northeastern January winter.

You’re walking somewhere far and you’re only wearing a light hoodie. It’s uncomfortably cold but not painfully freezing. The journey is possible.

You’re walking.

Your bones are cold and your skin is cold but you’re still walking.

You’ve walked only wearing this light hoodie for so long that you learned how to mentally check out. You conditioned yourself to bear the temperature.

You can’t afford to think of being present because it makes the whole journey harder for you.

Then out of nowhere, someone throws this enormous cloud-like parka on you.

It covers your shoulders, your back, and its puffy sleeves wrap around your arms.

All your attention comes to the feeling of warmth, the feeling of coze. You feel yourself again and you’re suddenly reminded of how far you’ve made it, how warmth can feel.

You remember who you are.

The warmth from the parka feels so foreign to you. How can it feel this soft? How can it be this warm?

You wonder how come you couldn’t make this journey with a parka on the whole time?