Learning to love
Growing up, I never had the perfect role models for romantic love. I only had Nicholas Sparks books-turned-films and my overplayed Fearless CD.
I eventually branched out, but one thing remained: I had a fairytale view of romantic love. I believed hardships always turned into happy endings. So as I went through the motions of what I thought love could be—like having my eyes on the same person on-and-off for five years and changing someone’s mind to make what could’ve been a long-distance relationship work—I strongly believed that the harder I worked, the more fulfilling the love story would be in the end.
I don’t know what made me decide to go about life and love differently. Maybe it was a mix of being so far away from home and the judgment that comes with doing things non-traditionally, and finally accepting that good things don’t just fall into my lap. What I now fondly look back on as my experimental year—2023—was the year I went out of my comfort zone, when I tried (and admittedly, sometimes still failed) to have fewer expectations of people and relationships.
I went on dates knowing I’d likely never see these guys again. I let go of putting all my eggs in one basket, to truly enjoy living life as a single woman in a big, multicultural city.
I thought I knew all there was to know about love — from movies and series, rom-com books and Taylor Swift songs. Little did I know, I still had so much to learn.
While this might seem like such great progress for someone who always had her head in the clouds, I had some slip-ups too. From lowering the bar of what it meant to be treated right to an all-time low—turning my world upside down to blindly follow the breadcrumbs someone left whenever it was convenient for him, to believing I could make a misogynistic man otherwise—I’ve been beaten and bruised in just one year way more times than anyone deserves in their entire lifetime.
Yet I continued to soldier on. I came into 2024 with the promise to be kinder to myself; to still put myself out there but to not put any pressure on myself; to be less reckless, and just let things fall into place.
One Saturday afternoon, I met with two friends at a café. Having not gotten together since I’d moved back to the city where we now all live, we had lots to catch up on. Among matters that piqued their interest was me having gone out with one guy the evening prior, and being set to see another guy the day after. My friend asked, “Which one do you get more excited to talk to?” Without even pausing to think, and to my surprise, I instantly said, “The one I’m meeting tomorrow.”
Long story short: our first date was so good that, even before it ended, we already penciled in another one. And then after that, another one, and after that one, other ones more.
From the get-go, I knew I always had a good feeling about him, and from when we’d met, I’d already known I was being treated well. But because of past experiences, I didn’t want to think ahead. While there seemed to be no red flags, I coerced myself to just live each date as it happened, without holding him to any promises he’d made.
After several dates (all good ones, by my book!), I was still quite in denial that we were dating—even though, by some unspoken rule, we probably already were. I never admitted it until it was explicitly said, for fear of things turning sour when I was way too into it, or when I least expected it.
Somewhere down the line between our first meeting and making things official, a friend asked me, “What makes him different from all the other guys?” With absolutely zero hesitation, I said, “How I am around him.”
I then reflected that anxiety was a standout feeling I used to get around any potential love interest. But with him, I’d always felt calm and easy; a kind of peace I’d never known I could feel.
I realized love is not necessarily something you have to work hard for or hold on too tightly to; it’s not a prize to be won. It’s something that just is and will always be there, if you let it in and choose for it to be so.
With each “You all right?” instead of hello, each “Do you feel safe?” to sometimes break the silence, and each “I love you” just because, I’ve never felt more secure, more loved, and more myself; I’ve never felt how easy it is to love and be loved as I do now.
I feel peaceful bliss every time I stop to think about where I am, because while this to me is love I’ve never known, it’s one I’m certain is real and made only for me.
It might be too soon for me to say where I’m at in life and that love is where it’ll all end, but I’ll happily live each day knowing there’s still so much to learn—and that this was always where I was meant to be.
