Let's Talk About Love

Let's talk about love. It is such a simple word, yet its definition is so complicated because it isn't always the same to everyone. What one person calls love is what another calls abuse. How do we learn what love means to us then? How do we pinpoint what our definition of love is, without it being misconstrued by society or even by those close to us. With the passing of Valentines Day, a holiday that is revolved directly around this word I find myself thinking about its meaning in my life.

It is something I struggled with as a girl raised by a single mother had men coming in and out of her life all the time. I spent a Christmas at age 7 at her boyfriends, who violently yelled at her, broke down into tears and went to b ed all within an hour of us getting to his apartment. Love to my mother always came in the form of broken, unstable men who in the end would use her and be on their way.

So I thought that was what love was about.

To love someone, despite their issues and despite how horrible they treat you, and to stick with them to the end. My mother went through a few men like this in my childhood, some of them less visibly unstable and some with clear malicious intent. I found myself reading romance books where gaslighting and controlling behaviors were romanticized, wondering where and when I would find my 'prince'.

The first boyfriend I had was freshman year of high school, who admitted he dated me out of 'convenience' seeing how he knew I liked him and the girl he liked wouldn't give him the time of day. He would tell me he liked my hair down and I should wear more dresses than the fake emo attire I was trying to pull off. I complied because why wouldn't I? Is this not what a relationship was? I would go home feeling self conscious about myself but would find myself trying to fit the mold that he had made for me.

Then my mother found a new love, all the way across the country where she decided to uproot my sister and I too. I was devastated as my relationship was only a few months old and I would have to say goodbye to what I thought could of been something lifechanging. You know, the things that teenagers believe because they are young and impressionable. I broke up with my boyfriend in a tearful goodbye, moving to a new state far away from everything I knew. Unknowing to me that same boy who was so 'devastated' would end up dating my old best friend and rub in my face that he was doing better. Classy.

I went from the hustle and bustle of a city, to an almost tropical paradise. California was warm, sunny and calm compared to the chaos that I was accustom to. A new school meant starting over to make new friends and learning to navigate the huge campus that had 4 buildings compared to the two floors my tiny old high school was on. Surprisingly I adjusted well, finding myself in a friend group within my first two weeks of school and within the month getting use to the new routine.

Then, of course, I met a boy that I fell head over heels for. He was sweet, liked some of the things that my teen self obsessed over (which for the life of me can't remember them) and liked to talk on the phone. We would spend lunch together, talk about how he played football on the school's team and how he was different from other guys because he had a pink hello kitty back bag. Yes, and when he finally confessed he had feeling for me and wanted to take out relationship to the next level I was so excited to start a new chapter.

We would be the power couple that I would image for a football player: going to games together, sitting at the quad eating lunch and meeting each other after every class. That was the fantasy I wanted, the kind of high school love I wanted. So when he picked up that girl and spun her like a princess, I was wondering why it wasn't me.

Yes, for that relationship that lasted about three months, he acted more like a couple with his church friend then he ever did with me. I was a dirty little secret that no one in school knew about it, any 'romantic' moment was in a staircase alone or outside of school. He didn't want people to be in his personal life, or rather I believe he was embarrassed of me. I wasn't the type to date someone like him and when I broke up with him over the summer break, he threatened to kill himself and that I was the only thing keeping him together. The day after, when I told him I wasn't changing my mind, he slandered my name and said only God loved him. He became a hard core Christian and renounced me.

School started and he tried to get me back by walking into my class, with roses and telling the whole class how he just wanted to wish the most beautiful girl a happy birthday. I was embarrassed and when I told him after that wasn't cool, he changed schools. I was as good at picking men as my mother.

I truly believe that I thought these were only people that could love me, because what I read and what I saw told me that this was normal. That it was okay to be second best. These weren't my only bad relationships but they are the ones that make me realize how little I valued myself growing up. That I had no idea what love actually was and what I was gripping at was anything but that.

So what is love? Let me rephrase, what is love to me? At 23 most people haven't found that answer, if anything they are out there experimenting and seeing what they like and don't like. However, I have found myself in a relationship that defines my sense of the word love. It came from an unexpected place, a friend who had supported me for years during the best and worst times of my life. Someone who was in my life in high school where I didn't know myself and happened to cross my life again when I finally had a better sense of myself.

They were the first person who didn't care about what I wore and supported me as I transitioned from the alternative child I thought I was to the Barbie princess adult I am now. They bought me a beautiful tiara for my 22 birthday, because it would go with all my pink dresses and I felt accepted.

There was a time I hated the way I looked because my hair dresser dyed my hair purple (which was not the planned color). Instead of ridiculing me or calling me dramatic, they helped me style my hair every day in unique styles until I felt pretty again. It was a moment I knew I truly was in love and they felt the same.

I have learned in my relationship, which has been going three years strong, that I am deserving of real affection. To be seen at eye level, not as a doll or a dirty secret that the world can't know about. Even when the waters are rough, we are still a team and we take down the issues together. They take in consideration my situation and feelings when we fight, never making me feel like the bad guy. More importantly, I feel appreciated and without them I would of never went back to creating art or starting my small business. They make me feel like I'm on top of the world and I know with them by my side, we can handle what the world will throw at us.

I know what love is and that is because I have it now.