Growing up without hearing “ I love you”

When I think back on my childhood, what sticks out the most isn’t what was said—it’s what wasn’t. I don’t remember hearing “I love you.”

As a kid, I didn’t even realize how much that mattered. Life was busy with school, chores, family stuff. I told myself love must have been there in the food on the table, the rides to school, the roof over my head. And maybe it was. But still… I craved the words. I wanted to hear them. I wanted the reassurance that I mattered, that I was more than just someone who had to keep everything together.

There’s a comfort in those three words that I never got. They’re simple, but they mean safety, belonging, being seen. Without them, I carried around this quiet ache. A gap. A question. Was I really loved? Was I enough?

And the truth is—that question followed me into adulthood. Into my relationships. Into the way I doubted myself. Into the way I felt like I had to earn love instead of just existing in it.

But here’s the thing: becoming a mom cracked something open in me. It showed me I don’t have to repeat the cycle. I get to choose differently.

Now, with my kids, I say “I love you” all the time. At bedtime. In the middle of chaotic mornings. Randomly, just because. I want it to be the background music of their lives—steady, familiar, unshakable. I don’t ever want them to wonder if they’re loved.

And as I give those words to them, I’m learning how to give them to myself, too. To look in the mirror and whisper, You are loved. You are worthy. You always have been. Even if I didn’t hear it then, I can hear it now. From me, to me.

The truth is, not hearing “I love you” shaped me. It left marks. But it doesn’t get to define me anymore. What defines me is how I love now. The hugs. The words. The softness I create for my kids and for myself.

I may not have grown up hearing it—but I will grow forward saying it. Out loud. As often as I can. Because love should never go unsaid.