There is something deeply tender and profoundly human about the desire to be adored. To have someone look at you with eyes full of genuine affection, awe, and softness. To be seen in your wholeness, not just for what you do, but for who you are. There is a quiet intimacy in being beheld like this, and an even deeper kind of love in being cherished through deliberate acts of care.
For me, adoration is not just a look. It is a language. It is not simply the gaze of someone who sees you as precious, but the gestures that accompany that gaze, the tangible acts of love that echo your innermost needs. Being adored, in the way that truly nourishes me, looks like food lovingly cooked just for me. Thoughtfully chosen gifts. Quiet arrangements made in the background to ease my load, beauty treatments booked, restful days planned, trips designed with me in mind. All the details taken care of so I can simply exhale. So I can feel that I am being held, thought of, considered.
It is easy to believe that everyone wants to be adored. That, surely, we all crave that feeling of being loved out loud. And perhaps we do. But there is something deeper beneath that yearning, the circuit. Because adoration, when it is truly alive, is circular. It flows in both directions. There is the giver and there is the receiver, and when both are attuned, something electric happens. A loop of giving, receiving, seeing, and being seen.
But here is the truth I have come to know. To be adored, genuinely, fully, in a way that lands and lingers, you must be willing to receive. And that receiving begins with you. As tired and overused as the phrase may seem, it remains an essential truth. You must first adore yourself. You must become familiar with the sensation of reverence directed inward.
The first pair of adoring eyes must be your own.
When you practise self-admiration, when you learn to hold yourself in loving regard, to cherish your being, to honour your past, your shadows, your softness, your strength, you create a language within. A sacred familiarity. So when someone else comes along and mirrors that back to you, when they look at you with devotion, when they offer you tender gestures and curated love, you recognise it. You know the feeling, because it already lives within you. And because of that, you can receive it without shrinking, without dismissing, without disbelief.
But when that inner devotion has not been cultivated, when you have not yet learned to worship the wholeness of who you are, acts of love from another can feel alien. Discomfort may rise. You may miss their meaning entirely. You may not feel worthy of what is being offered.
This is where it can become sticky, even uncomfortable. The concept of adoring yourself might seem indulgent, self-centred, or even narcissistic. But that is a misreading. Because what we are speaking of is not ego, it is reverence. It is about holding your being with kindness, understanding, and sacred respect. It is about seeing your imperfections, your wounds, your desires, and loving them anyway. Loving yourself into wholeness, not in spite of your cracks, but because of them.
It takes time. It takes courage. And it takes intention.
Now, for those who feel a natural inclination to adore, to love generously, to offer devotion freely, there is beauty in that role too. But the circuit only completes when the offering is received. When your efforts are seen, felt, and appreciated. It is not about transaction, it is about connection. The person who is offering love lights up when their devotion is received with openness. It feeds them too. Their love is witnessed, their care is recognised, and that witnessing becomes part of the intimacy.
Two people. One giving, one receiving. But both being seen. Both being heard. Both being nourished.
And therein lies the sacred dance of adoration. It requires communication, understanding, and a willingness to learn each other’s unique love languages. To learn how your beloved feels most seen. To learn how you feel most cherished. Sometimes this gets lost in the passage of time. Sometimes it needs to be remembered, recalibrated, gently brought back into the light.
But there are two foundations that remain essential.
First, as the receiver, you must cultivate a loving relationship with yourself, so you can recognise love when it is offered to you, and so you can communicate how you wish to be held, cherished, and adored. Whether through words, acts, presence, or care, you must know the language your heart speaks.
Second, as the giver, you must understand the power of your offerings. You must also feel seen in your giving. It could be as simple as witnessing a smile light up your partner’s face when they feel your love. Or as intimate as knowing they trust your care enough to relax into it fully. That your devotion matters.
This is the circuit.
This is the intimacy.
Adoration, in its truest form, is not about grandiosity. It is about devotion. Presence. Attunement. It is about cultivating sacred love within yourself and allowing it to be mirrored, received, and returned in your own unique way.
And when both hearts are open, one to give and one to receive, adoration becomes not just an act, but a shared language of the soul.
Share this post