The Sweetness of Loving You
Dear Sweetness,
There’s a sacred kind of sweetness that comes from loving you—
I’m not talking about the fleeting affection others offer in fragments.
I mean the thick, honey-slick, unapologetic, soul-hugging kind of love.
The kind that tastes like the first bite of mango on a Brooklyn stoop in late July,
when the air smells like coconut oil, incense, and ambition.
That’s what it feels like—
Loving you is like summertime in New York.
Where everything glows golden at just the right time,
Where your laugh echoes off brownstone bricks and bends time back into joy.
This isn’t just romance. This is reverence.
This is the kind of presence that makes you stop mid-stride,
look up,
and thank the sky for being blue just because you're here to see it.
It’s wearing red lipstick to the grocery store
and dancing while waiting for the train.
Because when you love you—
really love you—
You don’t wait for a partner or a paycheck to feel worthy.
You don’t wait for someone else to see your light.
You become your own sunrise.
And listen—
there’s something irresistibly divine about a woman
who knows how to be in love with her own breath,
with her own reflection in the mirror when no one else is watching.
She becomes the ocean and the moon,
the secret ingredient in every sacred recipe.
We’re not talking ego.
We’re talking embodiment.
Self-love that’s not performative or passive,
but deep, rooted, and delicious.
It laughs like a jazz note rolling down Malcolm X Boulevard
and struts like summer heat on a Harlem sidewalk.
To be presently in love with yourself
is a revolution wrapped in soft silk and shoulder rolls.
It’s allowing joy to flirt with you in the most unexpected places.
It’s wearing your heart like a crown,
knowing you don’t have to shrink to be safe.
You don’t have to apologize to exist.
You are the prayer, the praise, the poem.
And if nobody told you lately, let me be the first:
You are worth the slow mornings.
You are worth the sacred laughter.
You are worth the ocean’s applause.
You are the main character and the miracle.
So go ahead—
Laugh at your own jokes.
Buy the damn flowers.
Kiss the sun back.
Wear the gold hoops.
Book the solo trip.
Make love to your own life.
Because the sweetness of loving you
isn’t just sacred—it’s legendary.
And when you love yourself like this—
everything else begins to rise to meet you.
In the legacy of our ancestors,
in the rhythm of city streets and sacred altars,
let this be your summer of return.
Back to joy.
Back to self.
Back to you.
With love, radiance, and a wink of sunlight,
Sherley Delia
Founder, Healing Majestically Consultancy
Where sacred love is our birthright, and joy is our inheritance.
P.S. The next time someone asks what you’re doing with your life, tell them:
“I’m loving myself—out loud, on purpose, and without permission.”
✨
