What Love Wasn’t.

There’s always the first one.

The first real one.

The one boy who gets there first. Before your logic. Before boundaries. Before you even know what to look for.

Not to be confused with your pre-teen hallway crush or the boy who let you borrow his hoodie in middle school that probably absolutely wreaked of Axe body spray. I mean the first person that holds enough weight to quietly rewire how you define love without even noticing. The one that accidentally teaches you what love is or worse, what it isn’t. For me, it was big and messy and stupid. And the worst part is: I didn’t even clock how much it was shaping me until years later.

I wasn’t always like this - not that where I am now is some dark, unforgiving place. But there was definitely a time when I wasn’t this blunt or careful. There’s a version of all of us before the reality of the world hits. It’s perfectly normal to live in the fantasy of fairytales as a kid; I know I did. And like most girls, I loved the idea of love long before I understood what it actually required. I consumed it all: books, movies, Taylor Swift songs (still do), Wattpad (don’t act like you didn’t). I really believed the right story could teach me how love worked.

But it wasn’t fiction that set my expectations - fiction set the anticipation. It was that first relationship - the one that quietly convinced me love had to cost me something in order to mean anything at all, and that real love was nothing like the movies.

My (Actually) Chemical Romance

I learned this recently: when your brain associates love with unpredictability, it creates literal chemical dependency loops. Dopamine. Cortisol. Oxytocin. Repeat. Your brain wires itself to crave the back and forth. That fight-makeup cycle? It’s not just a bad habit. It’s literally addiction. And I can pinpoint exactly where that loop started for me. I can almost sort of see it cinematically, like the first time I stayed in a fight too long. The first time I apologized for something I didn’t really do just to keep the peace. The first time I convinced myself feeling anxious was just part of “real” connection. That’s how these cycles form.

The fireworks disguise the tiny quiet choices that change everything.

And I want to be clear here: this isn’t me blaming anyone. Not fully, anyway. I can acknowledge there’s a previous version of me that would love to - but life isn’t black and white like that. It’s not about fault anymore; it’s about impact. Maybe we didn’t know better. But once the pattern is set, you either learn to break it, or you let it break you.

Why I Thought Calm Was Boring

The next layer down: If it wasn’t loud, it wasn’t real.

If it wasn’t dramatic - if there wasn’t a big fight followed by an even bigger apology - I assumed it wasn’t love. It got to a point where peace felt wrong. Silence felt like danger. If things were calm, I assumed it meant distance. I’d pick fights just to feel close again, and so would the other person. It just went on and on. And once that becomes your standard, you don’t just attract situations that mirror it - you create them.

And I’ll admit it: I was guilty of that. I left the first relationship and stumbled right into another, playing the same game on a loop. Creating chaos just to feel a feeling I thought was normal.

It’s actually embarrassing to admit now how fully I lost myself in that version of me. If you knew me during that time, you really knew. Everything about me shifted - my clothes, my hair, the jewelry I wore, the way I spoke, the places I would be, even the music I listened to (honestly, I think that’s the most embarrassing part). I became a stranger just to fit into someone else’s idea of who I should be.

And maybe - just maybe - he wasn’t ever enough for me either. But that thought didn’t cross my mind back then. When you’re young, it doesn’t feel like self-sacrifice. It feels like compromise. Even when it’s everything but.

The Death of the Illusion

Ever heard of limerence? I hadn’t until a TikTok hit my feed about two months ago - some woman talking about realizing she didn’t actually miss her ex. She missed the version of him she’d created in her head. That’s limerence.

One day I woke up and realized that’s exactly what I’d been doing without even knowing what it was called. Years later, it’s only now occurring to me what that realization was. The death of the illusion.

I wasn’t in love, I don’t think I’ve ever really been in love. I was in love with the versions I invented to blind myself to a simple truth: there’s better out there. And I am worthy of having it.

The version I’d built in my head that never really existed. And that hit me hard - not in a sad way, but in a freeing way. It made me realize I don’t have to stay anywhere - or with anyone - just to avoid looking like I was wrong. It’s actually okay to be wrong and move on. Once I understood that, it wasn’t about him anymore. And thank God.

The Real Plot Twist

Romantic love isn’t even the point. Not really. Did everyone else know that but me?

I guess it makes sense that relationships feel like the center of everything when you’re a teenager - but as you grow, heal, and actually step into adulthood, you realize they’re just one part of a much bigger life.

Heck, all my friends are getting married at the present moment, and I still catch myself slipping back into that mindset sometimes. That once you find “your person,” everything else will fall into place. But life has so much more to offer than one single relationship.

About two years ago, when I finally broke that cycle, life became so much bigger. I found myself in places I never thought I’d be, next to people I never thought I’d meet. That’s what makes me feel alive now - showing up for myself, saying no when I need to, building something that’s entirely mine.

Love is just a bonus. A really good bonus. But not the prize.

———

Wheeeew, thanks so much for reading! I’m really loving writing and sharing in this new way. I still haven’t nailed down a name for this series, but I know I want it to stay a random space for me to dump whatever thoughts and epiphanies pop up.

I’d love to hear your feedback to help shape future projects. And if there’s anything specific you want to hear about - say the word.

Vee