Say Love.
As I aged, hold on, let me rephrase that - as I have become wiser, the word ‘Love’ has morphed into a thousand different shapes and forms.
Love has gotten a lot more complicated, and often times, I choke and suffocate at the idea of it. Although, it wasn’t always like that.
When I was 5, Love was getting the yellow, double-sided, faux fur/cashmere coat my parents had gotten me because my little sister always got the pink one. Love was a beautiful princess in distress - she had long, blonde hair - being saved by a handsome prince charming, and they lived happily ever after.
When I was 8, Love meant shadowing my birthday behind All Soul’s Day because respecting the dead was more important than celebrating life. We always do that, don’t we? Love also sat next to me at English class, he had jet black hair and fair skin, and he lent me his pencils and told me I was pretty. Love was nice, Love was easy, Love was simple.
When I was 12, Love meant leaving the life you have established at an early age to begin a new one. Love hurt, Love was painful, until I looked to my left amidst our flight to another land we would call home; Love showed me my blessings, Love was tricky.
When I was 13, Love was having the innocence and an ever accepting heart of a 10-year old; Love was receiving love letters from boys that knew nothing about me but they liked my hair, so that counts... Right? One of them wrote that the sun shone through my eyes, even though he’s never looked straight at them. Another said I deemed his speechless, but does being deemed speechless mean having to never present yourself with a simple ‘hello’? Love was flattering but it confused me, I accepted it anyway.
When I was 18, Love held my hand and heart at the comfort of his grasp; he held it loosely but I didn’t mind. We celebrated birthdays, holidays and went on dates and I was happy. We were happy. I thought that this was it, this is Love. Until Life came along. Life and Love were conflicted, and Love has options now; he grew while I was restricted from my own growth; slowly, birthdays became obligations that had to be addressed, and dates ended up in arguments. Were we still happy? Eventually, realization swept in in the form of a puddle of tears, sleepless nights and unbearable heartache, this is not Love.
When I was 19, Love was me; I have always believed in my persona as a bold and independent individual, but growth and Life itself imposes a certain level of doubt on you as a person. And sometimes, pausing the clock and taking the time to truly learn, know and accept who you are is half the battle won.
Love is often portrayed in the form of another human being to fill the void in your life, a temporary accompaniment that serves as a distraction; to prevent loneliness from devouring your vulnerable soul into self destruction. We forget that Love comes from within. Love value-adds: it inspires you to grow and improve on yourself to become a better person. Love is maturity: it understands that everybody has flaws, and does not criticize them. Instead, it appreciates every curve, crack and scar in your being - physical or non-physical - and embraces them entirely. Love is encouraging: it encourages you to step out of your comfort zone to do greater things in life. Love is selfless and brave: it is wearing your heart on your sleeve and opening it to to new experiences or even another person for them to reach the greater depths of your existence. It is choosing to entrust them with faith and confidence, despite knowing the you will experience pain in the process of doing so.
Love will continuously evolve into different forms, but realize that knowing who you are and what you want in life; your dreams and ambitions is a stepping stone to giving the right kind of Love; your own definition of Love. Know your worth and project the energy you want to attract. And until you encounter another soul has the same beliefs, perception, and approach to life as you do, I beg you: Please do not settle.















