HiveComb

Who should you love first? Who is your best friend?

I walked into a grocery store yesterday expecting the usual Valentine’s Day soundtrack.

You know the kind - “I don’t want to miss a thing” echoing softly while you compare cereal prices.

Instead, I was met by the saddest rendition of a love song.
Her tone was mesmerising.
Her voice was pure melancholy.
And every lyric tugged at a hurt I thought I had already packed away neatly.

It stopped me in my tracks.

I gulped. And by gulped, I mean I swallowed hard, fighting the water rising behind my eyes, determined not to go from carefully curated winged eye makeup to smudged rebellion between aisle three and the dairy fridge.

So I did what any emotionally responsible woman does.
I laughed.

I walked up to an employee and said,
“Who’s managing today’s playlist? You should check on them… sounds like they’re having a hard time today.”

They gave me a sheepish look.
I walked away.
And that is when I remembered the years before I allowed myself to receive love, be loved, and find love.

Because by society’s standards, “Who should you love first? Who is your best friend?” has an easy answer.
Your partner. Your family. Your friends. Your God. Your duties.

And yes, love them.
Deeply.

But first?

First, love the one who stays when the noise fades.
The one who hears every thought you never say out loud.
The one who witnesses the doubt, the ambition, the fear, the quiet victories.

The one who has seen every version of you
and has not walked away.

The one who will live with the consequences of your choices.
The one who will carry your kindness
or your cruelty
into tomorrow.

You.

Or perhaps…
the version yourself that is ready to take her place…

Because if you are harsh with yourself now,
the woman you are becoming will inherit that harshness.

If you are gentle with her now,
she will inherit peace.

I learned this s—lowly.

For years I loved approval first.
I loved being good first.
I loved keeping the room calm more than keeping my own heart steady.

I thought that was love.

It was not.
It was survival dressed in polite clothes.

So who should you love first?

The woman you are today.
And the woman you are becoming.
The one further down the road, watching to see how you treat her.

And who is your best friend?

Listen carefully.

It is the voice you use when you speak to yourself in private.
The one no one else hears.
The one that can strengthen you
or quietly undo you.

I am learning to make that voice kind.

Because when you become your own best friend,
you stop chasing love like it is running away.

You begin to meet her
steady, whole, and equal.

Who do you love first?