I haven’t fallen in love in years, and I’ll tell you why.
Love, to me, has always been more than just a feeling. It’s the feeling of being seen, understood, and cared for by someone who makes your heart feel light and your life easier, the kind of connection that makes you feel safe enough to soften. I’ve been one of the lucky people who have had the privilege to experience this feeling, both romantically and platonically.
But if I’m being honest, I don’t think love has ever just happened to me. It has always felt like a decision. A moment where I look at someone and think, “You are safe enough for me to let go”.
I remember once saying this out loud, that falling in love felt like something I permitted, something I chose after careful consideration. The person I was speaking to looked at me like I was completely out of my mind.
Because to them, love is something that sweeps you off your feet without warning. But for me, it has always required something deeper. Trust. Safety. Emotional consistency.
And I haven’t felt that in a long time.
The last time I was truly in love was with my ex, whom I met in 2019. When I look back on it now, I smile. Not because it was perfect, but because I felt seen. I felt chosen. I felt like I could exist fully as myself without second-guessing it.
Since then, I’ve met people who, on paper, made sense. But something was always missing. Not attraction or compatibility, but safety.
I realised that I had become more guarded. Not in an obvious way, but in the small, quiet decisions. Holding back when I wanted to give. Pausing when I wanted to be kind. Questioning my own instincts.
There were moments where I caught myself thinking, Maybe I shouldn’t be so nice, and stopping myself mid-action.
Because the truth is, I have been kind and still been treated carelessly. I remember asking someone to help me move cities. I gave them several months’ notice. They agreed. And then, a week before I was supposed to move, they cancelled.
It sounds like a small thing when you say it quickly, but it wasn’t small to me. It made me feel like something so important in my life could be dismissed so easily by someone I had shown up for. I cried, not just because of the inconvenience, but because I couldn’t understand how someone I had shown up for could treat something important to me with so little consideration.
For a moment, I thought maybe this was my turning point. Maybe this is where I become harder. Less giving. Less open. Maybe this is where I enter my villain era. But that version of me didn’t feel honest either.
Because the truth is, I like loving people. I like showing up. I like making people feel seen and cared for. I like knowing that, even briefly, I was a good part of someone’s life. So I allow myself to express care and love for people without being in love with them. And I realised that becoming cold would not protect me. It would only take something away from me.
And in the absence of romantic love, I turned that same care inward. I started showing up for myself in the ways I had been waiting for other people to. And I have become calmer, softer, and more at peace with myself.
So no, I haven’t fallen IN love in six years.
But not because I can’t. I think I just haven’t felt safe enough to.
And maybe that’s what has changed the most. I no longer feel the need to force myself into something just because it looks right on paper. I still show love the way I’m programmed to. I still enjoy showing up for people, caring for them, and making them feel seen. That hasn’t changed.
But to be in love requires letting go and not holding back certain parts of myself. Because I know what love feels like when it’s right.