7.8.25 // Find Somebody to Love

You Better Find Somebody to Love — that line echoes like a command, a plea, a truth. The lyrics roll forward in waves in their repetition:
Don’t you want somebody to love?
Don’t you need somebody to love?
Wouldn’t you love somebody to love?
You better find somebody to love.
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It’s so easy to nod along — because yes, duh. Who doesn’t want to be loved? Who doesn’t crave the safety of a partner’s arms, the way someone else’s eyes can soften the edges of your day?
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But lately, I’ve been sitting with a different question — one that doesn’t show up in the song: What if the “somebody” I need to love… is me?
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This song, like so many others, places the answer “out there.” As if love is a treasure we find in another person. As if fulfillment only arrives when someone else chooses us, stays with us, reflects our worth back to us. And I’ve spent years, if I’m honest, looking for that kind of love. Projecting my needs outward. Hoping that if I found the right person, I’d finally feel whole.
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But what if love isn’t a search party? What if it’s a homecoming?
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What I’m starting to realize is this — You better find somebody to love — doesn’t always mean looking outward. Sometimes it’s a call to turn inward. To stop outsourcing my self-worth to relationships. To stop waiting for someone else to give me what I’ve been withholding from myself.
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Because if I don’t know how to love me — in the quiet, in the mess, in the becoming — then no matter who shows up, it won’t feel like enough.
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And maybe that’s the evolution of the song. Maybe the lyrics are right. Maybe we do need to find somebody to love.
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We just rarely realize that somebody might be us.