Never Again

It really hurts to not be recognized.

To not be fully claimed.

To love someone deeply,

share incredible life experiences,

build memories that matter —

and then not be able to share them socially.

I understand that some people are more private.

Not everyone wants their life all over social media.

But let’s be honest about the world we live in.

Recognizing the person you care about publicly —

on Facebook, at events, in conversations —

is a declaration.

“Facebook official” is a real thing for a reason.

It’s not just about a relationship status.

It’s about being acknowledged.

It’s about being celebrated.

It’s about not being quietly erased.

And it’s not only Facebook.

It’s birthdays.

It’s anniversaries.

It’s how someone speaks about you in a room full of people.

It’s whether they glow when they say your name.

For over a year, I lived the opposite of that.

I had been kept hidden —

under the guise of “that’s just not my thing.”

Meanwhile, I was slowly erased.

From social media.

From his public life.

All while being told I wasn’t a secret.

But we both know I was.

And we both know why.

I went to an event last year where multiple men openly celebrated the women they loved.

They spoke words of admiration and gratitude to the crowd.

They reached for their wives’ hands.

They lit up when they said their names.

In small conversations, I watched men glow when they talked about their partners.

That did something to me.

Because I realized —

That is a non-negotiable for me now.

I am not made to be kept in the dark.

I am not meant to be placed in a private box on a shelf.

I am not someone you experience quietly and then tuck away.

I want to be acknowledged.

Loved openly.

Celebrated the way I celebrate the people I love.

I want someone to glow when they talk about me.

To be excited to share a picture.

To believe that the most important relationships in their life are worth honoring — visibly, meaningfully, proudly.

I will not be erased again.

I will not share beautiful experiences and then feel guilty for sharing them.

And next time —

we will celebrate each other.

Openly.

With joy.

With intention.