Choosing Love

I have come to believe that we choose to fall in love.

Not in one grand, cinematic moment, but in a series of quiet, deliberate "yeses".

We choose it when we accept an invitation to a date, and then another. When we stay a little longer in conversation. When we share parts of ourselves that invite curiosity, or reveal a gentle kind of compatibility. We choose it every time we step closer into another person’s world, and every time we open up our world.

Love, in this sense, is not something that happens to us. It is something we participate in.

And yet, while we choose to love, we do not control what unfolds post choice.

For a long time, I thought love required caution. That it was something to approach carefully, as though it carried inherent risk. But I have since learned that going into anything thinking it is risky is no way to live. So I no longer frame love as danger. Instead, I understand vulnerability as courage. The courage to show and share your truth, negating the fear of reprimand, judgement, or detachment. To love is to reveal yourself without shrinking. To be seen without negotiating your essence.

Maturity changes the way we love.

Not by making us more guarded, but by making us more rooted.

I now understand the importance of loving and respecting myself. I know, that I will never make myself fit into another’s expectations and I will never ask that of anyone else. There is a quiet peace in that. It means that when there is a connection, it is genuine. It brings joy.

And when there is no connection, there is no need for adjustment or performance.

Walking away is not a failure, it is alignment. There is a softness in knowing that love does not require self-abandonment. To love well is also to nourish love intentionally. Not through grand gestures, but through presence.

My love languages are quality time and physical touch. To be loved well is to have these honoured intentionally, consistently; to be met in the ways that make me feel seen and held. But love is not one-sided. It is equally important that I choose to honour my partner’s love languages too. This is how we water the relationship. Not just the romance, but the friendship; the companionship. The growing attraction that merges galaxies over time.

And when love is healthy, when it is intentional, mutual, and grounded in self-respect, it does not feel overwhelming. It feels like a sensory afterglow with flashes of frisson.

A delicate but constant remembering.

A thought. A smile. A touch. Returning to you softly, often, throughout the day. It is not loud, but it is ever present. Not consuming, but expansive.

If I could speak to young Bela I would not warn her against love. I would guide her toward herself. I would tell her that the journey towards relentless self-love is long and, at times, arduous, but it is also the most magical thing she will ever obtain. Because this love becomes the source from which all other love flows. All of it is nourished by the way she loves herself.

I would remind her of this:

Love is not constricting.

It is expansive.

It is abundant.

And, above all, it needs to be, it yearns to be, intentional.

And now, I find myself here: not at the beginning, and not quite in the middle, but in a moment that feels like the Big Bang.

I am falling in love.

Not by accident, not by chance, but by choice.

I do not have control over how it will unfold or how this love will be received but I am choosing not to shy away, not to measure risk, not to retreat into caution disguised as wisdom.

I choose to stay open.

I choose to snuggle into his embrace.

I choose him.