PART 1: When I don’t hold back

Part One: When I Don’t Hold Back

Becoming Nina

I’ve learned that when I love, I don’t hold back.

And not everyone is ready for that.

I don’t play games.

I don’t pretend I don’t feel.

I don’t shrink myself to keep someone comfortable.

I show up honest.

Soft.

Open.

Sometimes too open.

And for some, that feels like safety.

But for others—

it feels like exposure.

I’ve seen it in real time.

The moment love becomes too real for someone still living in survival mode.

When presence feels like pressure.

When consistency feels like a trap.

And intimacy?

It starts to feel like exposure.

The disappearing act.

The ghosting.

The slow retreat after a deep connection.

Not because I wasn’t enough—

but because I was everything.

Too honest.

Too grounding.

Too awake.

And for someone still hiding behind games,

still running from the weight of their own reflection,

that kind of love feels dangerous.

It threatens the version of themselves they built just to survive.

There’s a reason some people choose toxic love over safe love.

A reason they keep going back to chaos instead of choosing clarity.

Because when you haven’t healed—

you don’t feel safe with someone who respects you.

You don’t trust calm.

You don’t trust stability.

You don’t trust someone who gives you space to be yourself without controlling you.

Instead, you feel comfortable around what mirrors your wounds.

You gravitate toward jealousy, control, emotional games—

not because they feel good,

but because they feel familiar.

And familiar feels safer than healing.

So even when someone shows up with patience, presence, and respect—

you’ll push them away.

Or worse—

you’ll stay somewhere you know you’ve outgrown.

You’ll stay small.

You’ll stay hidden.

You’ll stay in a relationship you were meant to walk away from,

because healing requires more courage than comfort.

There’s a reason some people choose not to leave.

Even when something better—something powerful—is right in front of them.

Even when they could build something real, something whole,

something that could change their life.

Because deep down, that kind of love demands evolution.

It asks for your honesty.

It asks for your effort.

It asks for your becoming.

And if you haven’t done that yet—

you’ll choose what’s familiar

over what could set you free.

Because accepting real love means showing up honest.

It means owning your fears, your wounds, your contradictions.

It means facing your ugly.

And most people aren’t there yet.

So if you’ve been told you’re “too much”—

if someone left you after you showed up open, soft, and true—

hear me:

It wasn’t you.

It was that you were ready for something they weren’t built to hold.

And if you’re the one still caught in cycles,

still chasing intensity instead of intimacy,

still calling chaos “chemistry”—

it’s time to stop.

Because until you commit to healing,

until you focus on becoming,

you’re not looking for love—

you’re just filling a space.

And all that does is create more suffering.

For the last five years, whenever someone asked me what I was looking for,

my answer was always the same:

“I’m still working on me.”

Not because I’m broken.

But because I know I’m not yet the version of myself

that my future deserves.

That’s what Becoming Nina really is.

It’s not about who I want.

It’s about who I’m becoming.

Become obsessed with making yourself better.

Not for them.

For you.

Because once you do—

you’ll stop chasing love that costs you your peace,

and start attracting love that matches your power.

Love, Nina

xox

Part One: When I Don’t Hold Back

Becoming Nina

I’ve learned that when I love, I don’t hold back.

And not everyone is ready for that.

I don’t play games.

I don’t pretend I don’t feel.

I don’t shrink myself to keep someone comfortable.

I show up honest.

Soft.

Open.

Sometimes too open.

And for some, that feels like safety.

But for others—

it feels like exposure.

I’ve seen it in real time.

The moment love becomes too real for someone still living in survival mode.

When presence feels like pressure.

When consistency feels like a trap.

And intimacy?

It starts to feel like exposure.

The disappearing act.

The ghosting.

The slow retreat after a deep connection.

Not because I wasn’t enough—

but because I was everything.

Too honest.

Too grounding.

Too awake.

And for someone still hiding behind games,

still running from the weight of their own reflection,

that kind of love feels dangerous.

It threatens the version of themselves they built just to survive.

There’s a reason some people choose toxic love over safe love.

A reason they keep going back to chaos instead of choosing clarity.

Because when you haven’t healed—

you don’t feel safe with someone who respects you.

You don’t trust calm.

You don’t trust stability.

You don’t trust someone who gives you space to be yourself without controlling you.

Instead, you feel comfortable around what mirrors your wounds.

You gravitate toward jealousy, control, emotional games—

not because they feel good,

but because they feel familiar.

And familiar feels safer than healing.

So even when someone shows up with patience, presence, and respect—

you’ll push them away.

Or worse—

you’ll stay somewhere you know you’ve outgrown.

You’ll stay small.

You’ll stay hidden.

You’ll stay in a relationship you were meant to walk away from,

because healing requires more courage than comfort.

There’s a reason some people choose not to leave.

Even when something better—something powerful—is right in front of them.

Even when they could build something real, something whole,

something that could change their life.

Because deep down, that kind of love demands evolution.

It asks for your honesty.

It asks for your effort.

It asks for your becoming.

And if you haven’t done that yet—

you’ll choose what’s familiar

over what could set you free.

Because accepting real love means showing up honest.

It means owning your fears, your wounds, your contradictions.

It means facing your ugly.

And most people aren’t there yet.

So if you’ve been told you’re “too much”—

if someone left you after you showed up open, soft, and true—

hear me:

It wasn’t you.

It was that you were ready for something they weren’t built to hold.

And if you’re the one still caught in cycles,

still chasing intensity instead of intimacy,

still calling chaos “chemistry”—

it’s time to stop.

Because until you commit to healing,

until you focus on becoming,

you’re not looking for love—

you’re just filling a space.

And all that does is create more suffering.

For the last five years, whenever someone asked me what I was looking for,

my answer was always the same:

“I’m still working on me.”

Not because I’m broken.

But because I know I’m not yet the version of myself

that my future deserves.

That’s what Becoming Nina really is.

It’s not about who I want.

It’s about who I’m becoming.

Become obsessed with making yourself better.

Not for them.

For you.

Because once you do—

you’ll stop chasing love that costs you your peace,

and start attracting love that matches your power.

Love, Nina

xox