Understanding to me is one of the most beautiful virtues that keep us, humans, together. Personally, I believe that there is no greater comfort than knowing that one's purest intent, is being purely perceived. Having people in your life who are able to unriddle the heart of you (with or without you speaking a word) is a true gift. And it's something that I do not take lightly.

On my own behalf, I look at understanding as a gift - because it's something that we don't have to grant to others, but something that we can willingly offer to them. Yes, it takes time. Yes, it takes energy and an abundance of patience - but if the capacity; and more importantly, the empathy is afforded to try to look outside of oneself, shut the hell up and shift our vantage points, it's possible to gain true understanding. Simple as that. Or is it?

It's good to be loved, but it's profound to be understood.

The gift of understanding is something that I didn't really value the way that I should have. Until I learned just how damaging misunderstanding can be. It's a life ruiner, it ruins people's lives (if you caught that slightly dramatic, Means Girls plug, hey yall!)

But in all seriousness, misunderstanding is a toxic element that can shatter friendships, families, marriages, partnerships, the list goes on. As damaging as it can be to interpersonal relationships, it's hard to avoid.

Personally, the past two years of my life have taught me some interesting lessons about misunderstanding. Mainly, I've learned to get my idealistic head out of the clouds and come to grips with the cold, harsh realness of it all. Misunderstanding is actually more common than I gave it credit for.

Many a time, while in the midst of relational battles, my sentiments sounded as such:

"Use all of the right words, Lu"
"Come from a place of love"
"Be genuine, be honest, be vulnerable."
"Everything will work out...they'll understand"

Yeah...nah! They didn't understand. Regardless of how carefully I intended to deliver my feelings, they were received all kinds of crazy. And it happens to the best of us.

As people, we make outrageous efforts to bridge the gap between what we mean and what we say. We can be extremely mindful of our words, our tone, and our body language, hopeful that everything translates properly - only to be looked at like we're speaking Mandarin. But you know what? THAT IS OKAY.

It's okay if someone doesn't know the melody of your heart's song.
It's okay if someone doesn't have the compassion to peel back your layers.
It's okay if someone doesn't have the tenacity to meet you in the middle.
It's okay if someone just doesn't care to understand you.
It is not the end of the world.

And with all of that said, this post goes out to all of the people in my life who truly understand me, and all of my complexities. To everyone out there who speaks my language, and above all - to those who made the effort to learn my language: Dad, Minah, Rah, Disa, Taz, Lily, Mec, Dani, Danielle - I LOVE YALL <3

Understanding is an art. And not everyone is an artist.

Thanks for reading!

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