The Idea of Love

When I reflect back over my past relationships, I sometimes find myself asking a difficult question:
Was it really love?

And if I’m completely honest with myself, the answer is often no.

At the time, it felt real. The connection felt intense. The emotions felt consuming. I confused attachment with depth, attention with affection, and chemistry with permanence. But as I’ve gotten older and truly begun to understand what love actually is, I’ve realized that many of those relationships were not love at all.

Some were infatuation.
Some were lust.
Some were loneliness wearing the disguise of connection.

Sometimes we hold onto people not because they are right for us, but because we desperately want the feeling to be real. We cling to potential, moments, words, memories, and temporary closeness because the human heart longs to belong somewhere.

Especially when we are younger, we often mistake material things, attention, gifts, attraction, or emotional highs for love. In our teens and twenties, love can feel performative — something we chase through validation rather than understanding. We think love is butterflies, passion, constant communication, or being unable to let go.

But real love is much quieter than that.

Real love feels safe.
Steady.
Intentional.
Patient.
Consistent.

It doesn’t leave you constantly questioning your worth or begging for clarity.

Recently, I listened to a young woman speak about praying and asking God for a sign so she would recognize the person meant for her. What struck me most was that her prayer had nothing to do with money, status, looks, or material things. And somehow, the answer she received gave her peace deep enough that she simply knew.

That fascinated me because it raises a bigger question:
How do we truly know when something is love?

Is it spiritual?
Emotional?
Scientific?
Or perhaps a combination of all three?

Science says love affects the brain through chemicals and attachment patterns. Attraction can create emotional highs that feel almost addictive. Loneliness can convince us that proximity is intimacy. Trauma can even make dysfunction feel familiar enough to mistake for love.

But I think genuine love goes beyond chemistry.

Because chemistry can fade.
Infatuation can disappear.
Lust can cool.
Loneliness can make us settle.

But love — real love — remains present even when life is ordinary.

I think one of the clearest signs of love is peace.

Not confusion.
Not inconsistency.
Not emotional exhaustion.

Peace.

The kind of connection where you do not have to perform to be chosen. Where honesty feels safe. Where your spirit is not constantly anxious over whether someone truly cares. Where you are accepted not only for your strengths, but also for your flaws, fears, and humanity.

And maybe that’s why so many of us revisit our past and question it. Because once you begin to understand love in a deeper way, you realize how many things you once called love were actually lessons.

Necessary lessons perhaps — but lessons nonetheless.

So maybe love is not just found in passion or attraction.

Maybe love is recognition.

Recognition of peace.
Recognition of safety.
Recognition of being fully seen and still fully chosen.

And perhaps that is why when it is real… somewhere deep inside, beyond logic and explanation, you simply know.