Have I grown out of love?
Love, steroids & pneumonia
Firstly I want to apologise for my absence. It’s cold and flu season here in Melbourne, which I usually coast right through, until this year. I have been sick for over a week now, which feels like forever. Two days ago I went to the doctor who told me I was fine, I just needed rest. I knew I wasn’t fine. So I went back today and a new doctor rushed me off to get x-rays, to check for pneumonia. So I am now dosing up on steroids, antibiotics and an inhaler to help me breathe. Im not someone who does being under the weather with grace. I am terribly bored, yet too sick to do anything meaningful. Yet I am grateful to live in a country with free healthcare and subsidised medication. I will be fine, and thank you to those who reached out—you know who you are.
I started writing the below piece a week ago. I hope you enjoy it. Kelli x
I was driving home in the dark last night with Phoebe Bridgers soulfully streaming through my Apple Carplay, crooning about love and obsession and the fire of early romance, and it got me thinking about romantic love. About how crazy and intoxicating it can be to be in the early throws of lust and attraction. I wondered if I would ever feel like that again, and the thought crossed my mind — I think I have grown out of love.
You see I had an epiphany not that long ago. I realised that we search for love all our lives—with many of use looking in all the wrong places (or is that just me?). We search for ‘the one’ who can fulfil our needs and make us feel complete. I mean who could forget the line when Tom Cruise says to Renée Zellweger's character “You complete me” in Jerry McGuire. Who doesn’t want to feel ‘complete’?
When I was in my late teens, a girlfriend and I applied to be on a television show called “Perfect Match”. A game show where one person asks three people behind a barrier some heavily sexually innuendo’d questions to try and nut out who their perfect match was. I won a trip to the Gold Coast with my ‘perfect match’ who was anything but. We had nothing in common, and all I can remember is taking full advantage of the bar tab and spending the weekend drunk.
My quest for love didn’t end in the channel 10 studios. I have fallen in and out of love more times than I would like to admit. Early in my thirties I thought my quest was over. I met and married the man that was to be my husband. We had a small idilic wedding in Hawaii, bought a house together and created two beautiful children. But alas, happily ever after wasn’t to be. We have both remained steadfast in our commitment to our family and the children, and over time we have become best friends—no doubt a better outcome than if we had forced ourselves to stay together.
So this brings me to the epiphany. Life and maturity have made me realise that I don’t need another half for me to feel whole. I feel completely whole. And I feel surrounded by love. Romantic love can be transient, inconsistent, fleeting—but the love I share with my children is complete, whole, without conditions. The love I feel for my dog is pure, without expectation. She wee’s occasionally in the hallway and I quickly mop it up lest she feel shame or embarrassment. Can’t remember feeling that way with my husbands dirty socks. My Dad is 80 years old and going strong. I have loved him my entire life, I am part of him, and him of me, and on the cycle goes.
I came to realise that there is no void to fill. I feel complete. So complete in fact that I’m not sure I have space in my life for someone else. I don’t think I have the energy to get used to someone else’s habits, or foreign washing in the washing basket, Lord knows I have enough of that already. And what if they want to sit on my corner spot on the chaise? I would rather curl up with my dog and a good book than put myself through the torture of a first date.
Have I grown out of being in love? Maybe. Ironically, as I have matured I have become more patient, kinder, quieter, yet far less likely to put up with any bullshit. Boundaries will give you freedom my friends. That young girl that believed if I can just be better, prettier, smarter, skinnier, then he will stay—doesn’t exist anymore, and thank God for that. That girl didn’t understand that she was enough just as she was, that nobody is worth compromising yourself for—nobody.
I am happy, I am content, and I am complete. Have I grown out of love? No I don’t think so, I think I finally understand that I have all the love in the world that I need. And most of all—finally I love myself.
The Greeks gad a more nuanced way of looking at love. The most well-known categories include:
Eros:
Passionate, romantic, and often sexual love.
Philia:
Deep friendship and affection, characterized by intimacy and shared interests.
Storge:
Familial love, encompassing the bond between parents and children, siblings, and other family members.
Agape:
Unconditional, selfless, and universal love, often associated with a divine or spiritual source.
Beyond these four, the Greeks also explored other forms of love, including:
Ludus: Playful and flirtatious love, often found in early stages of romantic relationships.
Pragma: Long-lasting love that develops through shared experiences and commitment.
Philautia: Self-love, which can be both a healthy and unhealthy form, depending on its expression.
Mania: Obsessive and often unhealthy love
You have only moved from Eros to the many other forms of love
You are truly well loved.
While I have been married happily for many years, our marriage has evolved over those years. If anything, we are closer in spirit and admire each other more. However, the ardent passion has waned somewhat and that is understandable.
I realize that not everyone needs a spouse to feel fulfilled. Kelli, it is great that you can be happy without one. In any case, I hope you recover very soon from your illness. We all missed your wonderful writing.