In my group of friends, there was this girl who always bragged to everyone about her boyfriend, who is now her husband. She constantly talked about how he took care of her and did everything he could to make her his wife. At first, I thought she was just being snobby, so I didn’t pay much attention.
This morning, I fell down the stairs—not a big deal, but my mom was there. We’ve had some distance since I moved out a few months ago. For the first time in what felt like forever, I saw her panic and rush to check if I was okay. She dragged me inside, helping me bandage my injury. In that moment, a memory from high school flashed through my mind. I fell in love with a boy back then, right after he took care of me when I hurt myself on my first bike ride. For a while now, whenever I talk about love, it’s been in the context of feeling unloved.
But this morning made me wonder—maybe that girl at work keeps talking about her love because she feels genuinely “loved” all the time. Her husband’s constant gestures, understanding of her love languages, and providing the stability she needs allow her love to flourish so brightly.
Sometimes, our own past wounds and unmet needs can color the way we see others. Maybe she’s not bragging; maybe she’s just overflowing with something beautiful. And maybe, instead of dismissing it, I should try seeing the world with that same openness, the kind that lets love be something worth talking about.
