🕰️ Many of us carry scars from childhood—raised voices, arguments behind closed doors, the absence of tender words. A therapist might say we weren’t loved enough. And maybe, in some ways, that’s true.

🌙 But love doesn’t always arrive in “I love yous.” Sometimes, it hides in quiet gestures too humble to be noticed at the time.

👶 I remember coming home from college with my baby daughter. She woke often at night, and I dreaded the exhaustion. Without a word, my dad rolled out a rug and pillow beside her crib:
“We’ll take turns here. Or maybe I’ll stay—it’s good for my back.”

It sounded casual. But then he revealed something I had never known: when I was little, he had slept that way for nearly a year—on the floor, within arm’s reach—so he could comfort me faster when I cried. No one told me. He never mentioned it. He just did it.

🍲 That’s love. Love is saved leftovers waiting in the fridge. Love is a father braving the midnight pharmacy. Love is unspoken sacrifice, repeated quietly, until it becomes invisible.

💔 Yes, therapy can help us heal from what was missing. But before we decide we were unloved, maybe we should look closer. Because love often whispers in the details—gentle, steady, and silent.