I used to think finding someone to love was the hard part. But it turns out, finding the right kind of love is even harder. The kind that doesn’t just love you at your best, but knows how to hold you at your worst. The kind that can point out your flaws without making you feel small, and still choose you, fully, at the end of the day.
Growing up, love looked a certain way. It was always intense, emotional, a little chaotic. The kind that keeps you on your toes. The kind that makes you overthink, reread messages, question where you stand. And I think a part of me believed that if it wasn’t intense, it wasn’t real. But maybe that was just all I knew.
Love in the age of social media
In today’s world, love feels even more complicated. It’s not just about what happens in real life anymore, it’s also what happens online. Who they follow, what they like, who they interact with. And when you’ve experienced a kind of love that feels insecure, it’s hard not to compare yourself. It’s hard not to let your mind wander into places it doesn’t need to go.
I’ve been there. Hearing stories, experiencing it myself. Your partner liking someone’s photo, talking to someone you think is prettier, better, more interesting. And no matter how confident you try to be, there’s still that small voice that questions everything. I think that’s just being human. But I also think the right kind of love doesn’t leave you sitting in that feeling alone. It reassures you without making you feel like you’re asking for too much. It makes you feel chosen, without you having to fight for that position.
Love when you’re not looking for it
I didn’t really understand that until I met my husband. And the funny thing is, I wasn’t even looking for it. It just happened. Looking back, I can see how different my past relationships were. Some of them felt more like lessons than love. And maybe that’s exactly what they were meant to be.
Love isn’t about control
I’ve always been someone who liked things my way. If something didn’t feel right to me, I would shut down, detach, protect myself before anything could hurt me. It felt easier that way. Safer. But being with him made me realize that love isn’t about control, it’s about compromise. It’s about fairness. You can’t expect someone to meet standards that you’re not willing to meet yourself. That was something I had to learn slowly and, to be honest, uncomfortably.
There were moments where I didn’t get my way, and I won’t lie, it annoyed me. But over time, I started to understand that it wasn’t about losing, it was about meeting in the middle. About growing up. About learning how to be with someone, not just love them.
Finally feeling safe
And then there’s trust. Something I used to struggle with more than I realized. I used to feel jealous, insecure, always a little on edge. But now, I don’t feel that anymore. Not because I forced myself not to, but because I don’t have to. My husband makes me feel safe enough to trust. Safe enough to know that whatever he does, wherever he goes, I’m still his person. And that kind of certainty is rare.
Sometimes people ask how I know. And the truth is, I just do. There’s no overthinking, no second guessing.
Pimmi’s Perspective
Maybe love was never supposed to be the loudest thing in your life. Maybe it was always meant to be the one that feels the most certain.
I can count on him when I’m not at my best. When I’m tired, emotional, a little difficult to deal with. And even then, he shows up. Maybe not perfectly every time, but enough for me to know that I’m not alone in this. And I think that’s what love really is. Not perfection, but presence.
I don’t think love is supposed to be easy all the time. But I do think it’s supposed to feel right. Safe. Steady. Like something you don’t have to constantly question. And maybe that’s why I call myself lucky. Not because I found love, but because I found the right kind.
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