I most love the parts of me that need love the most right now.

Sprain a wrist and you'll spend a fortnight favoring it, opening jars differently, carrying the bags on the other side. Nobody calls this indulgence. It's just what you do for the part that's hurt.

The same courtesy rarely extends inward. The parts of a person that need it most, the anxious one, the one that keeps apologizing, the one ashamed of the last five years, get the least. They get managed. They get hidden from company.

Attention drifts toward what's already strong, because strength is easier company. Reversing that isn't self-pity. A body heals from where it's broken, not from where it was fine all along.