There’s a quiet ache that forms when we keep stepping past our own center to meet someone in theirs.
At first, it can feel like devotion — selfless, noble, even spiritual.
But over time, we begin to notice the imbalance.
Not just in action, but in essence.
Something sacred within begins to fray.
A healthy relationship is not made of one person doing the emotional labor of two.
It is a shared tending — a dance where both are willing to step forward and meet in that fertile space in-between 
This “halfway” is not a place of compromise in the wounding sense, but of mutual honoring.
It says: I see you. And I’m willing to show up — not just to receive, but to offer, to witness, to repair.
In contrast, an unhealthy dynamic often asks one soul to stretch far beyond its natural rhythm.
To become the bridge, the balm, the builder… while the other remains stationary.
And while this might work temporarily — even feel romantic at times — the one who does all the reaching begins to vanish in the process.
Their needs go quiet. Their joy dims. Their body begins to tighten with unspoken truths.
And still, they reach.
The medicine lies in self-return.
In gently calling our energy home.
In recognizing that love which costs your center is not sustainable, no matter how spiritually dressed it may appear 
A balanced connection feels like mutual movement.
Like two rivers choosing to meet at the estuary, not one draining into the other.
Like reciprocity in word, in effort, in soul presence.
If you’ve found yourself always reaching, pause.
Not to punish, but to breathe.
Not to withdraw, but to remember your worth.
Love should never require you to abandon your own shore just to be held.