When I was a kid, I used to seek love in every way I could—from watching romantic movies to asking my family for back-rubs. When I was a teenager, I cried quietly in my bed hoping no one would hear me because I didn’t think I was worthy of love.
But there was love.
I just didn’t know what it truly meant.
As I look back, I see love in every moment of my life. There was love in my grandmother’s food and how she sat next to me watching me eat, keeping me company, making me laugh. There was love when I heard her talking with anyone who could hear her about my eating habits, how I ate my pancakes so dry, barely adding syrup, waiting until the very end to drink the strawberry milk she prepared for me. There is love in how she still thinks of me every time she buys food, making sure there’s always enough pancake mix in her cupboard. I can see it bright as day whenever she looks at me, the love in her eyes, her smile, her laugh.
I came across a more complicated love, the one that hurt and healed me at the same time. It was in my mom’s paranoia and my father’s overprotection. It was in my tears as I screamed for them to leave me alone because I was big enough (I was… but I wasn’t either). That love was too complicated for me to understand and it wasn’t healthy for any of us. Then, as time passed, I could see the love for what it was and for what it wasn’t. Their love might be the biggest I’ve come around to in all my years on this planet. There was love in my mom’s quietness as she listened to how my day was. It was so big when something bad happened to me; it kept growing as she marched her way through the problem so she could fix it. My dad’s love was consistent whenever I needed something. It was there, that day, when all I needed was a hug.
There was a simpler and easier love that could be found in my relationship with my cousins. There wasn’t anyone I admired more than all of them. The love came pouring out of me as I listened to them talk to each other about their college years, their friendships, their experiences. It was in their easy smiles and how they entertained my younger self, no matter what I said. It’s still there whenever I need someone to listen to me, it’s in their advice, and in their endless laughter.
There was romantic love, but there was an abundance of platonic love that I tried to never take for granted. There it was, in my school’s bathroom as I broke down from a horrible panic attack in the arms of my best friend, as I could hear my other friends waiting outside. But it was there too, whenever we defended each other from teachers.
Love could also be heard at night, in those FaceTime calls early in the morning, talking about fears, dreams, and aspirations. It was in those late nights when my friends made study groups to study about the imminent test that we were possibly going to fail (some of us definitely did). It was in letters, and long conversations, in “this reminded of you,” and “let’s go out this week.” It was also in the “don’t worry, I got you,” and in some “I’m thankful you’re here.”
But I also found love in books, in the late nights where my mom would enter my room to ask me to lower my voice because I was either screaming or laughing too loudly because of something a character did or didn’t do. It was in every purchase of new books knowing I was getting good enough at English to buy them. But it was more quiet, when I saw it in my writings, begging to be seen, to be heard, but too afraid to be loud. The love was so big in all my favorite artists, in the songs that I could feel with my body and soul.
I see love now.
It’s easy to see it now, and what a wonderful thing it is.
There it is every time I play with my nephews and nieces. It’s so big when my grandfather sings to us. It’s so blinding when I spend time with my friends. It’s beautiful when I give it to myself, when I take time to listen to myself, and spend alone time doing what I love.
For so long I tried to find love, without realizing it was there all along. Just as RM wrote in his song “Trivia: Love:” “I live so I love,” and for as long as I live, I will always love fiercely, ardently, unconditionally. I thought I wasn’t worthy of love, but I am made of love. There wasn’t any reason why I couldn’t find love or how it couldn’t find me. Because love is there, always, constant, waiting. Let it in.