What is love? Baby, don’t hurt me.
Love Is Not Just a Feeling
We tend to talk about love like it should be obvious. Like when it is right, you will just know. It will be easy, natural, full of butterflies, fireworks, and maybe a perfectly timed playlist in the background.
Unfortunately, that is not usually how real life works.
Not all love is healthy. And not everything intense is love.
Unhealthy love is often born out of what we first learned love was. If you grew up with alcoholic parents, emotionally unavailable caregivers, or in a home where there was little accountability, love may have felt inconsistent, confusing, or painful. You may have learned to work for attention, tolerate hurt, stay hyperaware of other people’s moods, or mistake instability for connection. These patterns do not disappear just because we grow up. They often follow us into adult relationships.
There is comfort in the discomfort. People choose the same relationship over and over (same relationship, different person), not always because it is good, but because it feels "normal". Chaos, emotional distance, and working for those liiitle bread crumbs can all feel...familiar. So when something healthy comes along—something steady, kind, emotionally available—it can actually feel suspicious. Like… where is the catch? Where is the dramatic plot twist? Why is this person just texting me back like a normal adult?
Healthy love is often not fireworks. It is not usually the kind of thing that sends your nervous system into a full spiritual emergency. It is steadier than that. Safer. More secure. It is a slow burn. And oddly enough, that can feel deeply uncomfortable when you are used to love feeling like longing, chasing, or convincing.
I was recently talking with someone in his 60s who felt really frustrated about the dating scene. He was tall, handsome, and driven. One of the first things he blurted out out was that he was trying to so hard and everyone was boring--or not what he was looking for. And in that he was worried he might end up alone. As we talked, it became clear that part of the problem was not just whom he was meeting, but how quickly he was writing people off. He had built a giant checklist of requirements and was discarding rather than actually taking the time to know these people. And we tend to do this--make checklists, because we think it's going to prevent us from making the wrong decision.
And honestly, a lot of people do this. Fear gets loud. It wants guarantees. It wants certainty. It wants to avoid pain at all costs. So instead of being open, curious, and grounded, people start scanning for flaws like they are conducting an emotional background check for the FBI.
Of course, discernment matters. I am not saying ignore red flags and paint them green. Please do not do that. But there is a difference between having standards and being so guarded that no actual human could possibly make it through the filter.
Love changes, too. Early love can be exciting, electric, and full of possibility. But healthy love evolves. It becomes less about intensity and more about consistency. Less about chemistry alone and more about how two people treat each other over time. Can you be honest? Can you repair? Can you take accountability? Can you stay kind when things are hard? That is where real love lives.
Because love is not just a feeling. It is also a choice. One you make EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.
Not a choice to stay in something harmful. Not a choice to tolerate disrespect and call it loyalty. But a choice in how we show up. Healthy love asks for honesty, accountability, mutuality, and the willingness to know and be known. It does not ask one person to carry the whole relationship on their back like an emotional Sherpa.
The real question is not just, Do we love each other? It is, How do we love each other?
Healthy love may not always feel familiar at first. But familiar and healthy are not the same thing.
And sometimes the work is not finding someone who gives you fireworks.
Sometimes the work is learning not to run from the person who gives you peace.
