The Velveteen Rabbit

I was reminded of the old children’s story The Velveteen Rabbit.
The rabbit did not start by being “real,” but became real gradually because somebody loved him for a long, long time.

What it looks like when a relationship of love produces being:

You become more whole, not more dependent.
It does not replace missing parts; it integrates what was already there but fragmented.
You are more functional because of it.

Your capacity for restraint increases.
It always expands responsibility.

You become less special and more solid.
Gravity is a sign of being.

What if, instead of hoping for a beloved to love us so diligently that they make us “real,” we pour that same quality of love into ourselves—patiently, faithfully—until our own being grows?

This does not negate relational love; it matures it, freeing love from the burden of having to make us real.

Love that produces being does not intoxicate; it consolidates.