Love is not enough
Love lights the match, but fire dies out eventually
When I was younger, I viewed romance as this great thing that could somehow solve all of my problems, like it was the most perfect thing in the world, and that once I had my “one true love,” all the other things in my life would magically fall into place.
Upon “falling in love” (or what I viewed as love at the time), the world seemed to slow down, everything was in soft focus, hazy, and rose-tinted. I was a naive, hopeless romantic who would pour in 100% of myself into someone who wasn’t even worthy of 2% of it. It’s like I thought love was Gorilla Glue for dysfunctional personalities.
I once spent all my pocket money on buying the latest Percy Jackson book for a boy because he mentioned his parents wouldn’t let him get it. Another time, I snuck a two-page love letter smudged with purple glitter gel pens in his coat pocket. He probably didn’t even read past the second paragraph.
The culprit for my delusional, over-the-top gestures? Media. Be it books, television or music, it was all about love. All that mattered were these two people, and the amazing chemistry they had. No matter how many crazy obstacles were thrown their way, no matter how impossible it seemed, they’d always find a way back to each other. The media relentlessly marketed the idea of the great big love that always prevailed.
But eventually, and thankfully, I grew up, courtesy of being sucker-punched in the face as a result of how careless I was with my heart. I came to realise that love is not enough of a reason to choose someone as a romantic partner.
All alone, love is only good for a summer fling that you forget about by September. Once you’re catapulted into university and forced into adulthood, you’re suddenly aware of how limited your time and energy are. You’re juggling coursework, internships, all-nighters with your friends where you ponder upon the state of the world at 4am, and trying to secure somewhat of a future post-grad plan. You can’t exactly be giving everyone the time of the day and still be a “responsible” and functioning adult. As a result, you start to really think about the kind of people you surround yourself with: your friends, acquaintances, hobbies you put your energy into, and what you do with your 24 hours.
Your social circle is arguably one of the most important parts of your life. Because at the end, strip away all your achievements and accolades, when you’re graying and 80, what are people going to remember? That you got a 90 on your Chemistry final in university?
Humans are inherently social people; we need each other to survive. It brings joy and meaning into our otherwise listless existence. Which is why it is so incredibly important to be picky when choosing something as important as a romantic partner. This is someone you share the deepest, most secretive, dark and dingy parts of yourself. What you don’t show to the rest of the world. This is someone you share a bed with. Someone you offer all of yourself to, and trust to cradle your fragile heart, instead of running through it with a steak knife.
This is not to say that I have a laundry list of rigid “requirements” that I need to be checked off before I consider someone as a potential partner (contrary to popular belief). Personally, when I feel that tug in my stomach and first start to experience attraction to someone, I like to test out the waters to see what they are really like. What is most important to me is whether our values align. If we clash on something so fundamental, there’s no way we could sustain a healthy relationship.
I recommend watching out for:
- Political views.
- Anything to do with children and family.
- Gender roles and expectations, if that applies.
- The way they view toxicity.
- Their friends.
- Who they want to be in life.
And I get it, finding out all of this information in the early stages of dating can feel intimidating—likegoing to scare the object of your desires off and have them retreat far, far away from you. But, honestly, if they are serious about you, they would know how important these conversations are, albeit a tad awkward.
But, love isn’t a switch that you can turn on or off at your whim. Will you be able to stay in a relationship with someone, not knowing who they truly are? Knowing that if you do, you may never get married? That you’d have to compromise on something you feel strongly about? And as a result, you could very much end up resenting them for it, down the line?
Love lights the match, but fire dies out eventually. If all you chose was the heat, you’ll be left with nothing but ashes and excuses. What lasts is not the spark, but who stays to tend to it; who brings effort, alignment, and intention when the thrill dies down.
Make the active choice of choosing your partner, over and over again.
