They Are Not Papa — And They Never Will Be

It’s the 2nd of January.Two days into the new year.

I just mildly intoxicated myself with cleaning products and steam — courtesy of my newest love affair: the steam cleaner. There’s something deeply regulating about watching dirt dissolve. About humming songs from a hundred different genres while restoring order to something tangible.

And right in the middle of it — hands busy, mind quiet — a memory surfaced.

A conversation from New Year’s Eve dinner at a friend’s place.

He asked me, gently but directly:“But can’t you get this kind of love from your girlfriends? And from yourself?”

And without thinking too long, I answered:“It’s a different love. It will never be the same.”

At the time, it felt obvious. Now, lying here with tears running quietly down my face, I realize something else:

That answer was true.And it’s okay that it is.

Some Truths Don’t Need Fixing

There’s a version of healing culture that tries to convince us that all longing can — and should — be self-generated.

That if you just love yourself enough, need nothing, want nothing, desire nothing…you’ll finally be whole.

But that’s not honesty.That’s emotional austerity.

Wanting romantic love is not a failure of self-love. Missing a specific kind of being chosen is not immaturity.And longing doesn’t automatically mean you’re unhealed.

What matters is what you do with the longing.

They Are Not Papa

There’s a sentence I keep coming back to — especially when the desire to be chosen gets loud:

They are not Papa. And they never will be.

I don’t say this to shame myself.I say it to orient myself.

Because sometimes the desire I feel isn’t about the present at all. It’s about an old absence my nervous system still remembers.

Not consciously. Somatically.

When Desire Is Grief Wearing a Costume

For a long time, I thought attraction was intuition.That longing meant something was meant for me.

But I’m learning to tell the difference between:

• desire that comes from presence

• and desire that comes from unfinished grief

Some forms of wanting aren’t about the person in front of you.They’re about a moment in the past that never fully closed.

Being chosen.Being stayed for.Being prioritized without effort.

That kind of love is different from friendship love.And it’s okay to admit that.

Pretending otherwise doesn’t make you healed — it just makes you quiet.

No One Can Retroactively Become Your Parent

Here’s the truth I’m slowly letting land — again and again:

No adult relationship can go back in time and fix a childhood non-choice.

No amount of attention, chemistry, or being “picked” now can repair what didn’t happen then.

And every time I unconsciously ask someone to do that work, I end up disappointed — not because they failed, but because the task was never theirs.

They are not Papa.They never were.They never will be.

This Isn’t About Right or Wrong

Let me say this clearly, because shame loves ambiguity:

This isn’t about morality. It’s not about being “good” or “bad” at healing. It’s not about discipline or willpower.

It’s about an attachment pattern that makes longing feel alive and calm feel unfamiliar.

And patterns like that don’t dissolve through self-judgment.They dissolve through awareness + compassion + repetition of truth.

What I’m Practicing Instead

Now, when desire rises, I pause.

I ask myself:

• Is this attraction — or is this grief speaking?

• Do I want this person — or the feeling of being chosen?

• Am I present — or reaching backward in time?

And sometimes, the answer hurts.

But instead of acting it out, I stay with it.

I tell myself what I wish someone had told me earlier:

You don’t need to audition. You don’t need to earn love. I choose you now.

Choosing Grief Over Repetition

This is the real work.

Not suppressing desire.Not pretending you don’t want.Not spiritualizing your needs away.

But choosing grief over repetition.

Letting the tears come.Letting the longing pass through.Letting the pattern lose power because it’s finally seen.

That’s what I’m doing here — on January 2nd — between steam clouds, music, tears, and a very honest conversation with ChatGPT before I decide to publish this.

Yes, the blogs are mine.The stories are mine.The wounds are mine.

I just don’t believe in walking through them alone anymore.

And honestly?

That might be the most healed part of all.

A Closing Ritual: When the Desire to Be Chosen Arises

If this piece stirred something in you, don’t rush away from it.Stay for a moment.

Find a quiet space. Sit or lie down. Place one hand on your chest and one on your belly.

Take three slow breaths — not to calm yourself, but to arrive.

Then, gently say (out loud if you can, silently if you must):

I see the part of me that wants to be chosen.I am not ashamed of you. You are not wrong for wanting.

Let whatever emotion comes up exist without interruption.Tears, tightness, numbness — all are welcome.

Now place both hands on your heart and say:

You don’t need to audition anymore. You don’t need to earn love through longing.I choose you now.

Stay here for one more breath.

And when you’re ready, close with this:

I choose grief over repetition.I choose presence over fantasy. I choose myself — again.

There is nothing you need to do after this. No insight to extract. No decision to make.

Just let this moment count.

Hey and happy new year.

Liefs,

Eny