love, as it is… pt. 1

“this is for all my folks who feel they love too hard, or love too much, or are foolish/weak to aspire to know love: our journey to and through love deepens our spiritual lives, which provides the strength to navigate suffering and pain in this often chaotic world.” - bell hooks

this has been an odd week for me (could be that harvest full moon). my emotions have been all over the place with a constant reminder of that popular phrase, “healing isn’t linear.” it feels like the overarching theme of my life lately. recently, my mind has been occupied with thoughts about love, and rightfully so, as a major chapter of my life is ending. as a self-proclaimed lover girl, I’m starting to see love through a new lens; perhaps one that’s a bit clearer, stripped of my ever-favorite rose-colored glasses. my perspective on love continues to shift, and understandably so, because my own love story didn’t go exactly as planned. that’s something I’ve been sitting with lately: to truly experience love, we have to accept that it comes with no guarantees, especially when another human being is involved. my mom always reminds me that people come into our lives for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. in my teens and twenties, I held tightly to the belief that falling in love meant it was forever. but now, I understand that love doesn’t always last a lifetime, and that’s okay.

each person who enters our life, whether romantic or platonic, arrives with a purpose: to teach us something about ourselves, life itself, and about love. sometimes the lesson is gentle, sometimes it’s painful, but it’s always meaningful. as I grow older, I hope that anyone who crosses paths with me leaves with something, whether a remnant of my wit, a feeling, or a moment that deepens their understanding of self, love and life. one of my favorite artists, kali uchis, sings in “I Wish You Roses”:

“but if you and my heart should someday drift apart,
I’ll make sure to give you these blessings—
because they’re all I’ve got.
my love’s deep as the ocean. don’t you drown on me.
just know any love I gave you, is forever yours to keep.”

that lyric resonates with me deeply. it captures how I feel about love – we’re here to feel, to give, to experience, to grow, and to alchemize those experiences into wisdom. love in any form, romantic, familial, or platonic, invites us to expand. and yet, I often find myself wondering if humanity is truly meant to love only one person romantically for a lifetime. I still believe that lifelong love is possible, but I also understand how people can grow apart, and how growth itself can shift the shape of love. can love between two ever-changing, ever-evolving people truly withstand the tests of time? is it necessarily supposed to? no one talks enough about the grief that comes with outgrowing love. there’s an ache in realizing that someone you once saw forever with now feels distant, not always out of betrayal, but because evolution pulled you both in different directions. it’s a quiet kind of grief to love someone who’s still here but no longer fits the vision you once had. there’s also peace and reassurance in knowing that you can experience loving them in a different way.

as a Pisces, I’ll admit that delusion can be a cozy place to rest. dreaming of what could be, holding on to potential, seeing someone for who they could become rather than who they are. but love cannot survive on potential alone. detachment has taught me to take people and situations exactly as they are, not as I imagine them to be – and this goes for platonic, familial, and romantic love. when you release the illusion, you also release the pain that comes from unmet expectations. this isn’t saying that I’ve become completely detached from love itself, but more so to the outcome of what I choose to give and receive. it’s not about being cold or guarded, but applying the clarity and discernment that I pray for daily. I’m learning when you stop chasing words and start observing actions, the truth becomes clearer. it’s then easier to see red flags as red — not pink, not pastel, just red. that kind of clarity can be uncomfortable and sometimes lonely, but it’s also freeing.

as I continue reflecting on what love means to me during this transition and season, I’m reminded of a powerful passage by bell hooks’, all about love:

“to love somebody is not just a strong feeling – it is a decision, it is a judgment, it is a promise.
if love were only a feeling, there would be no basis for the promise to love each other forever.
a feeling comes and it may go.”

that quote grounds me. it reminds me that love is not simply emotion – it’s intention, choice, and action. our feelings shift, evolve, and fade, but the decision to love, to honor, and to extend grace is where love finds its depth and longevity. in this season, I’m learning that solitude is sacred. the more I pour into myself through healing, prayer, and self-reflection, the less tolerance I have for what doesn’t align. I’m leaning deeper into alignment and trusting the flow of what feels authentic and free. I only want what God has for me. I desire relationships, experiences, and exchanges rooted in mutual peace, respect, and reciprocity. I haven’t stopped loving, and never will; I’m simply learning to pour love from overflow, not exhaustion or depletion. these days, I’m learning to lean into love differently, focusing on presence, honesty, and acceptance. to enjoy people for who they are in the moment without forcing them into the mold of forever; and to recognize that love can exist in many forms through grace, release, forgiveness, and peace.

one form of love I am endlessly blessed to experience is the unconditional love I have for, and receive from, my children. to know a love so pure, so genuine, and so innate is indescribable. motherhood has shown me love in its truest form. to see two extensions of myself, born from love, and made in love, is to witness love personified. the love I hold for them reflects the essence of life itself — being, giving, grace, and patience. my children will never fully understand how their existence has propelled my own healing. their love carries me through my darkest days and anchors my most joyful ones. it’s amazing how can a love so deep and so steady continues to grow with every passing day. it’s a true testament to the gift of presence — a reminder that simply being here, together, is love in its purest form.

as jhené aiko so beautifully says, and as I have tattooed on my hip, love = living on valued energy & life = love in full effect. love, in all its forms, is an endless classroom. it stretches us, humbles us, and returns us to ourselves. to love is to live, to experience, to lose, to find, and to begin again. more to come of my thoughts on love… until next time.

slowly and reverently,
Mar B. 🪷