Things I Love: A Series

An attempt.

In Taylor Swift’s Daylight, the last song on her album “Lover”, there’s this spoken outro that goes:

”I wanna be defined by the things that I love
Not the things I hate
Not the things I'm afraid of, I'm afraid of
Or the things that haunt me in the middle of the night
I, I just think that
You are what you love:”

I’m not sure what exactly happened to me the last three years, but I know it’s been a lot. I’ve went through more changes than I know, my heart got stomped on more than I’d like to admit, I got Laisik eye surgery done, my laugh changed, the things I laugh at changed, we had a cat at some point, I solo-travelled to all the cities I’ve been dreaming about since I was 12, and I’m 100% sure I’m forgetting plenty of other milestones.

My 20’s started out with a big heartbreak and a pandemic. Then I graduated. A few months before that, my sister got married and moved to Europe. Then I realized I was still trying to move through the heartbreak, but of something much bigger than a relationship. Then I found a job, then I got my heartbroken again - this time by something I thought could never ever break my heart: friendship. Repeat heartbreak and moving forward until we reach this point right here.

Throughout it all, I’ve always felt like I left normalcy back at 19. Although it wasn’t all sunflowers and rainbows either, but it felt normal. Not familiar, not happy, just normal. Ever since, I’ve been trying to navigate and find a new sense of normalcy. Every day, several times, I find myself stopping and thinking “this is real - I am someone - who’s living a life - and I’m here - right now.” It never feels repetitive. It always feel unexpected as if it’s the first time I’m ever realizing I’m a real life human being.

For the past few months however, I found myself drifting into this magical, wondrous, absolutely magical feeling called hope.

I’m not hopeful towards something super particular happening, but I just have this overpowering feeling that it’s all going to be okay. More than okay, it’s going to be marvelous.

But here’s the catch: I get that feeling most when I’m already doing something I love, or with someone I love, or at someplace I love, or thinking about the things I love.

Especially throughout all the heartbreak, it’s been hard to think about love out of the context of loss. I genuinely think I spent the past three years just mourning the people and things and experiences (re: covid) I’ve lost over and over again. But that had its time and now, similarly to Taylor, I’d love to be defined by the things I love - not the things that haunt me in the middle night.

However, just like anything else, this requires practice. The first thing I know I love, no matter what stomps on my heart, is writing. So this is an attempt at practicing what I love to dive even deeper into everything else I love.

No sharing publicly, no expectations of social media-esque validation, no need for anyone to say “omg I love this too!” - just me, taking an hour weekly to write about things I love, hoping to God it goes somewhere within me that makes a difference, and welcomes even more love in.