Daily writing prompt

Can you share a positive example of where you’ve felt loved?

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I’ve learned over time that I feel love most clearly in the quiet, ordinary moments—not the big, ceremonial ones.

I feel it when Lizzi calls and says, “We haven’t talked in a couple of days,” not because anything is wrong, but because the connection matters. I feel it when she says, “Sully just said he wants to talk to Papi,” and suddenly the world narrows to the sound of a little voice on the other end of the line. There’s something profoundly grounding about being wanted simply because you’re you.

I feel it with Daryl in the same unspoken way—when she remembers something small I mentioned weeks ago and it reappears later, quietly, without fanfare. Or when we sit together in comfortable silence, no need to fill the space. That kind of presence says, You’re safe here.

I’ve felt loved in friendships too. Sometimes Scott will say I’m the best friend he’s ever had, and I always feel the weight of that—not as a compliment, but as a trust. To be known over years, flaws and all, and still chosen—that’s love.

And then there’s my mom.

Every time I think of her, I remember how intentional she was about love—how she made sure we didn’t just receive it, but felt it and knew it. I have recordings she made when we were kids, and when I listen now, I can hear it so clearly in her voice. Even decades later, it’s unmistakable. She was the most loving and tender person I’ve ever known, and I remain deeply aware of how privileged I was to have her as my mom.

The common thread in all of these moments isn’t grand gestures. It’s attention. It’s choosing to reach out. It’s showing up.

That’s where I’ve felt loved most—not when I was being celebrated, but when I was simply seen.

Copyright © 2026 Doug DeBolt.