What does your LOVE look like?

I should start this off by saying Valentine’s Day is always a little weird for me. For one, I am single. And not the normal single with options type single, or fresh out of a relationship single, hell I’m not even the if I wanted a man I could have a man type single. I am the painfully awkward 30-year-old, everyone I know is in a relationship, engaged, married or has a kid on the way type single. The Kimberlee is going to an amazing auntie to all her friend’s kids type single. The, whatever happens, will happen type single. And for the most part, that is a life works well for me.

Oddly enough though, being not so experienced at relationship type, I am obsessed with LOVE. Like literally, OBSESSED.  Give me romantic comedies, give me black love, give me grandparents who still hold hands, kisses on the forehead, high school sweethearts, butterflies in the stomach love of my life type stories, The Notebook, Love & Basketball, 500 Day’s of Summer type love, romantic surprises, gag-worthy proposals, all of it, and your girl is sold. I mean the heart that is located deep within the locked cobweb filled parts of what’s left of my soul is perpetually shook at all attempts at love, the real kind that is, I live for it, I learn from it and dare I say, I love it.

Only recently have I realized the complexity of being a human who is in love with love, but also hasn’t been “in love” in the traditional sense. The older I’ve gotten, I’ve started to think I was broken. At 30 years old, the movies, and moments that I have come to, for lack of better term “fall in love with” haven’t happened to me. Furthermore, I began to believe my idea and infatuation with love, may mean I have got the wrong idea about this love thing. Maybe I am incapable of loving.

WRONG.

Truthfully, I know now, more than ever before, people love differently. Love is a language spoken by many, understood by some, and respected by the faithful few willing to do the work. I realized that I can love people beyond what I have felt and that my loving people are valid and real, even if it’s different. I’m coming to terms with the fact that loving other people is work, but loving yourself is still the most important and difficult thing a person can do. I think, rather I know, that one day when you least expect it, sometimes the love you give, comes back at you in ways that you could never imagine. I know that commercial holidays like valentine’s day mean nothing if you don’t have a strong foundation to rest those roses and chocolate on… but I digress.

But most importantly, the older I get, the more I appreciate the many ways you can love someone, unconventional. And the more I am thankful for the ways in which my love has grown over the past 30 years…

You see, my love is hilarious. It cracks jokes at the most random times, to break up the silence or bring a smile to the face of the people that mean the most to me. My love makes you laugh when your crying, and then makes you cry from laughter.

My love is good eyebrows and fashion sense, that makes you feel most confident in that outfit and ready to take on the day. It reminds people that their beautiful is important always, even when it looks different.

My love is how are you text? You crossed my mind messages.  And randomly hitting up friends or people you haven’t spoken to in a while, just because they were on your mind.

My love is the way I love babies and kids even though I don’t have my own. The way that I speak to them like they are baby adults and the way they make me feel, even though I hate them lol.

My love is food. Trips to my favorite restaurants, Wingstop and Popeyes, Chipotle with extra gauc every time, long dinners with friends, and stops at a tea shop. My love is tacos on Tuesdays, In & Out at midnight, and trips to Denny’s like I’m in college again. My love is belly full of food and a belly full of laughs.

My love is having people on my mind. Praying for them when I barely talk to them or see them. Because I still love them, no matter the distance, time and change in our relationship.

My love is tougher than others. My love sometimes bullies my friends, not because I don’t like them, but because I love them enough to want the best for them in everything that they do. My love is their biggest fans, even when I want to strangle them.

My love tells you to break up with him, and not now, but right now, because the relationship that you’re in, isn’t benefiting or adding to his/her life, and as my friend, as my girl, and my boy, you are better than that. My love is seeing my friends in happy relationships that make them glow, make them better, make them whole.

My love can be happy for people I no longer see it for. Thankful for the memories, and respectful of the new paths old friends have taken. My love has evolved pass being hater, and finds comfort in those that gave me roots, even when they no longer water my grass.

My love isn’t always going to agree with you. Sorry.

My love is buying my friends food, picking up a Starbucks when they didn’t ask, hours of talking with my Twin, laughing for hours, and talking all things makeup brows and music because my love is about moments. The magic I make with each of my friends individually, an inside joke or a private message.  My love is people watching, going to the movies, or doing absolutely nothing, together, because my love is my people, and I love my people.

My love reminding my friends they are amazing, over, and over and over again. Telling them they look great in that dress, their highlight is poppin, their butt looks amazing and they are talented beyond belief and they deserve the world, even when they feel like everything is going wrong. My love is being their number one fan.

My love defends you when you are not around, and pulls the rug from under your feet when you are. My love is a hard ass. My love isn’t always nice. My love stings like a slap in the face, back to the reality you already knew, but needed to be reminded of.

My love is movement, and dance, and music in an empty room. My love is freestyle, and performing and the way the lights feel when they hit your face on stage, and how they warm your body and fill my soul.

My love is biblically based. Rooted in a foundation of God's purpose in my life. While acknowledging, understanding and respecting the greater being in yours. 

My love is sarcastic, as hell. It gets me in trouble because it’s not for everybody. But it means well, and while that’s not an excuse, my love is still growing, even when it thinks its grown.

My love gets tired sometimes. The constant shoulder that often carries the weight that sometimes feels too heavy to bare. My love cries alone from things often left unsaid, disappointments and miscommunication that steals the joy from my smile. And with that, my love rarely asks for much, but my love still needs to be checked on sometimes.

My love is my parents. The people who undoubtedly have proven that the movie type shit exist. My love is a foundation of two humans that raised me to be fearless, ask questions and most importantly love myself first.

My love is black as hell, and rightfully so. My love means loving my skin, my scars, and my history. Sticking up for myself and those that look like me. Never backing down and believing my voice, my worth, and my life does matter.

My love is writing. Writing for myself, about my experiences and the experiences that others may resonate with. My love is grammatically incorrect metaphors and stories that feel so familiar you want to keep reading and wanting more. My love is words. The words I can say, but mostly the words I cannot, hidden between the space of each line, telling more and more about myself to the world. My love is my writing, and my writing is me.

My love is the little things that remind me of you. The smile that creeps up on my face when that one song plays, and the way it makes me feel. My love is the ability to feel butterflies even when you thought you couldn’t. my love is the little things, that linger…

My love lives in the grey sometimes, showering you with actions that speak louder than words when the words are often too hard to say. My love is missed opportunities, missteps, and mistakes. My love is scared sometimes. Scared to take the next step, scared to mess up, scared of the what-ifs that come with being in love. But my love deserves patience, time and reassurance that comes knowing my love won't make you leave.

My love is unapologetic, much like me.

My love is still trying to figure it out, much like me.

My love is still growing, much like me.

My love unique. My love looks different. My love is simultaneously the loudest and softest voice in a room. My love is consistency. My love is communication. My love is forgiveness, and second chances, but not thirds, because my love has its limits. My love is putting my neck on the line for the greater good, and taking one for the team. My love is jokes.  My love is weird. My love is growth. My love is maturity. My love is complex, abstract and different.  My love is a vibe.

My love is different, but it is still love.

 So, shout out to me this Valentine’s Day, and the love that I give even when I don’t know what the hell I am doing.  They say Valentine’s Day is for lovers, and I have so much love to give… Here’s to those who have figured it all out. Here’s to those who are still figuring it out. And most importantly, here’s to those like me… who’s love can fill a room. May our hearts be full tomorrow of the love we’ve given, the love we’ve lost, and the love we are still manifesting in these moments, as we continue to build upon the foundation of the greatest love we’ll ever know ourselves.

<3