Re-Learning Love
Wednesday, February 1, 2012 at 5:26AM 
I learned how to fall in love by watching old black and white movies with my mom.
Watching Cary Grant, Katharine Hepburn.
Wuthering Heights.
Dr. Zhivago.
Casablanca.
Breakfast at Tiffany's.
Throw in a weekly dose of the Love Boat for good measure.
And that's what I thought love was.
I thought it was the tear-streaked-suffering-love of two people who can't be together and secretly die inside.
I thought it was the silly kind of love that can only take place in 22 minutes between commercial breaks.
I thought it was a strong man professing his love for the weak woman. Convincing her to run away with him.
It was sitcom love.
It was black and white love.
It was the love that comes with an orchestra behind it.
It was the love that had "The End" scrolling through the kiss.
It was a ridiculous kind of love.
It was TV love.
This is what I thought love was. And for years, I thought something had gone drastically wrong in my relationships - because 'my love' didn't look like the movies. Or the TV shows.
And I made that mean that he must not love me.
Or maybe even worse.
I was unlovable.
Until coaching - I hadn't even realized that TV love was just a thought. It was just a belief that I had in my head. A belief that could be questioned.
A belief.
That was wrong.
And that holding the idea of romance and love to a TV measuring stick.
Was not only impossible.
It was painful.
I questioned my thoughts. I questioned my beliefs. And I grew myself up.
In the process, I relearned how to fall in love.
I learned it is something inside of me.
It's a choice.
It's a belief.
It's something I do for me.
It comes with no directions, manual or checklist.
For me.
Or for him.
It's a strong man and a strong woman who have made a choice to love each other.
On purpose.
It's a quiet kindness that these two people share.
Even when there are no violins playing in the background.
It's a ride in a car on a day that I'm too afraid to be in my own head. No words need to be spoken. Just companionship.
There's no canned laughter.
No dramatic lighting.
No happily ever after.
It's just the little things.
Things that would never make good TV.
And a kiss.
That keeps saying.
The Beginning.
divorce, inspiring in Inspiration
Reader Comments (6)
This is not only beautifully written, but also so damn right. To love is a choice you can make every minute of the day. I don't love my husband for who he is but for who I am - and he doesn't love me for who I am but for who he is. His choice. My choice. The bestest (:-)) choice of every minute of every day for 15 years and uncounted to come.
LOVE this.
Beautiful indeed, with a lyrical quality that goes deeper than mere thought.
With hints of a something that is perceived 'as through a glass, darkly', speaking of yearning.
We fall in love unintentionally. It's only until the first pivotal point in the relationship when you are both forced to make the choice to love intentionally.
I really like your writing style Meadow and this post was very freedom inspiring. Thank-you!
Beautifully written Meadow! Thank you for sharing with all of us. I am both moved and inspired and deeply grateful for your work.