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Twenty years I’ve been sat here, watching words get flung out there, hoping someone, anyone, actually reads ’em. And still, after all this time, folks pitch me the same old head-scratchers. Like, “Hey, boss, can you define love for the blog? SEO-optimized, mind.” Right. As if you can just Google that one and slap a definitive answer on a page for the whole world to gawp at. It’s a proper ask, that. A bit daft, really.
I mean, define love. Where do you even begin? Is it that mushy feeling you get when your significant other brings you a cuppa without asking? Or is it the sheer panic when your kid cycles off without their helmet, even after you’ve told ’em a million times? It’s complicated, alright. It shifts and twists like a Welsh road on a rainy night.
Some days, I reckon it’s just pure madness, a bit of a delusion you conjure up to make sense of the world. Other days, it’s the quiet strength you find when everything else is crumbling, a bit like that solid pint down at the local after a shocking week.
The Great Commercial Cuddle, Or Is It?
You see it everywhere, don’t you? This idea of love, shoved down your throat from the moment you wake up. It’s on the telly, in the ads, plastered all over. Businesses, they’ve gotten clever. They figured out pretty quick that if they can tap into that deep-seated desire for connection, for belonging, then they’re on to a winner. Big money, that. Always has been.
Look at the dating app scene. A right old jungle out there. People swiping left, swiping right, trying to find some sort of ideal.
Tinder and Bumble: The Digital Matchmakers
They promise you the moon, don’t they? A perfect match, just a tap away. I’ve heard stories, good ones, mind. Folks finding their person, settling down, the whole shebang. But then I’ve heard the other side too. The endless ghosting, the disappointment, feeling more isolated than when you started. A lot of heartache gets bundled up in those pixels. They say they’re helping you define love by finding it, but really, they’re selling access. Access to possibilities, I suppose. And sometimes, access to a whole lot of wasted time.
It’s not just the dating apps, though. Think about the wedding industry. Blimey, that’s a beast. Every year, millions, billions even, get spent on one single day.
David’s Bridal and Say Yes to the Dress: The Bridal Behemoths
They’ve built empires on what? A single day that’s meant to be the start of forever. David’s Bridal, they were huge, weren’t they? And those TV shows, you see the pressure. All that fuss over a frock. People get themselves into a proper state. Is that love? The stress of planning a reception, arguing over flower arrangements? Or is it the calm after, when all the hullabaloo is done and you’re just sat there with your person? I tend to think it’s the latter, but then I’m an old cynic. That’s what it is, isn’t it? Love, tied up with all sorts of expectations and commercial noise. You gotta separate the two.
What about those gift companies, eh? Every holiday, every birthday, every anniversary, there’s a new reason to buy something.
Hallmark and FTD: The Sentiment Sellers
Hallmark, they’ve made a mint out of telling people what to say, haven’t they? Card for every occasion, a sentiment pre-written. And flowers from FTD? Pretty, sure. But is the gesture the gift, or is the actual thing the gift? Does buying someone a pricey trinket really define love? Or is it just a way to say, “I remembered, and I spent some cash”? Sometimes, a handwritten note, scribbled on a napkin, means more. That’s what I’ve seen, anyway. A lot of people conflate spending money with showing affection. They really do. And that’s a mistake. A big one.
Beyond the Bling: What Does Love Feel Like?
So, if it ain’t just about the fancy stuff, then what is it? I’ve seen folks, married for fifty years, bickering over the telly remote, then holding hands in the hospital waiting room. You try and define love there. It’s not always pretty. Sometimes, it’s stubbornness. Sometimes, it’s just habit. But mostly, it’s showing up.
Someone asks me, “What’s the secret to a long marriage?” And I just chuckle. Secret? There ain’t no secret. It’s getting up every day, making a choice. Even when you’d rather kick ’em out the door. It’s hard graft, love is. Anyone tells you different, they’re selling you a pup.
Is Love a Feeling or a Decision?
That’s a good one, that. Is it a spark, a rush, a tingling sensation? Or is it something you actively decide to do, day in, day out? I reckon it’s both, mostly. You feel that initial rush, don’t you? Like a shot of cheap tequila, straight to the head. But that fades, like a good tan in winter. What’s left? That’s the decision part. To keep going. To be patient. To forgive. To just be there, even when it’s a pain in the neck.
I’ve had a few scrapes in my time, plenty of them. Got my heart stomped on more times than I care to admit. And stomped on a few hearts myself, probably. Regrets? Aye, a few. But even through all that, you learn. You learn what you can stand, what you can’t. What you need, and what you just thought you needed. A right education, that is.
Love in the Mundane: The Unsung Heroes
It’s not all grand gestures and sweeping declarations, is it? More often than not, it’s in the quiet stuff. My mate down in Dudley, he doesn’t say much, not one for flowery words. But every Tuesday, without fail, he takes his elderly neighbour’s bins out. Rain or shine. Now, that’s love. Not the romantic kind, not the big Hollywood kind. But it’s caring. It’s looking out. It’s a proper good sort.
What about the folks who run those animal shelters?
RSPCA and Battersea Dogs & Cats Home: The Animal Advocates
These places, like the RSPCA or Battersea, they see the real, raw stuff every day. Animals that have been through it. And the people who work there, the volunteers, they give their whole lives to it. No pay, sometimes, just pure dedication. Cleaning up messes, nursing sick creatures back to health. That’s a powerful kind of love, isn’t it? An actual, selfless kind. For creatures that can’t even say thank you. That sort of devotion, that’s got to tell you something about how to define love in a real way. It’s not always about personal gain, is it?
Can You Love Someone You Don’t Like?
Now that’s a tough nut to crack. I’ve known families, proper close-knit, who drive each other absolutely mad. You hear ’em squabbling at the Sunday dinner, sharp tongues flying, then half an hour later they’re all laughing, arm-in-arm. You don’t always like your family, do you? They push your buttons, wind you up something rotten. But you still love ‘em. You still want the best for ‘em. That’s the odd thing about it. It’s not always about agreement, or even enjoyment. It’s deeper than that, sometimes. It just is. It’s a bond. A commitment, almost. Even when it’s inconvenient.
And self-love? That’s a whole other can of worms, that is. People talk about it a lot these days. Look after yourself first, put your own mask on before helping others. And sure, that’s sensible. You can’t pour from an empty cup, as they say.
Headspace and Calm: The Mindful Mentors
Companies like Headspace and Calm, they’ve really got hold of that idea, haven’t they? Selling mindfulness, meditation. Helping people learn to sit with themselves, to be kind to themselves. And that’s a worthy thing. Being alright with who you are, flaws and all. Not always easy, that. We’re all a bit too hard on ourselves, aren’t we? So, to define love for oneself, that’s probably the first step before you can even begin to offer it honestly to anyone else. It’s not selfish. It’s necessary.
The Ever-Shifting Sands: Has Love Changed?
People reckon love used to be simpler. Back in my nan’s day, it was all about practicalities, wasn’t it? A good honest living, a roof over your head, raise a family. Romance was a bonus, not the be-all and end-all. Now, it’s all about connection, passion, finding your soulmate. The pressure.
Is Love Different Now Than It Was 50 Years Ago?
Aye, and no. The way we express it, sure, that’s changed. The expectations we have for a partner, absolutely. We want someone to be our best friend, our confidant, our lover, our financial planner, our therapist. Good grief, no wonder everyone’s knackered. Back then, you had your mates for some things, your family for others. Your partner wasn’t meant to be your entire universe. That’s a modern burden, that is.
But the core feeling? The gut-wrenching worry when someone you care about is hurting? The fierce loyalty you feel? That’s probably timeless. That hasn’t changed a jot. A mother looking at her newborn, same feeling now as it was a thousand years ago. Or a bloke watching his team finally win the league, a proper surge of emotion, that. Is that love? Maybe. A deep attachment, anyway. A sense of belonging.
The Sticky Wicket of Unrequited Love
That’s a cruel one, isn’t it? When you feel all this, and the other person just… doesn’t. Or they love someone else. A proper kick in the guts, that. It makes you question everything. Makes you wonder if you’re daft for feeling it at all.
Can You Really Love Someone Who Doesn’t Love You Back?
You can, worse luck. And it hurts like billy-o. You hold onto a hope, a whisper, a memory. It’s like a phantom limb, you know? You feel it’s still there, even when it’s gone. It’s a different sort of love, maybe. More a yearning. A longing. And it doesn’t always fade. Sometimes it just settles down, becomes a quiet ache. But that feeling, that’s real enough for the person who holds it. More than real. It’s a part of ’em. And it can take ages, years even, to define love for yourself after that. To redefine what it means to be open to it again.
The Final Word? Not a Chance.
So, define love? After all this palaver, I’m still not giving you a neat little package with a bow on it. Because it ain’t neat. It’s messy. It’s joyful and painful. It’s present and absent. It’s what makes us do daft things, brave things, stupid things. It’s the reason for poetry and the reason for murder. It makes folks stay and it makes folks leave.
It’s the glint in your old dog’s eye when you walk through the door. It’s the quiet pride you feel when your kid achieves something, anything, no matter how small. It’s that feeling of knowing someone’s got your back, come hell or high water. It’s getting a text from your mate saying “You alright?” just when you needed it.
It’s not just a word. It’s an action. It’s a state of being. And sometimes, it’s just enduring. It’s the good, the bad, and the downright ugly bits of being human. And anyone who thinks they can stick that in a tidy little definition box probably hasn’t lived enough yet. Or they’re trying to sell you something. That’s usually how it goes. And I ought to know, I’ve seen enough of it.
