We spend a lifetime chasing “The One,” the mythical soul who can turn our world inside out and make us believe happiness has a face.

I’ve always been in love with love. For years, I lived inside a fairytale where my special someone would find me and never let go. I believed in the magic, the kind that sweeps you away without warning. So many of us do. We grow up dreaming of someone who knows our soul, embraces our flaws, and loves us without hesitation. But what happens when that person never comes?

Millions find their match made in heaven. Others settle for less, clinging to the bare minimum and hoping they can change the one they chose. Deep down, we all want the same thing: to be seen, cherished, and loved in a way that feels like home.

I’ve been married and divorced twice. I have loved deeply, but I’ve learned that love alone cannot hold the weight of a life. Faced with the choice between unconditional devotion and walking away, I chose romance, the kind without limits, the kind that has the potential to turn you into a martyr. The ride-or-die love that crooners sang about in early 2000s R&B. I thought that was noble. I didn’t realize it was self-erasure, but it was the love I learned from my parents.

The women who came before us loved unconditionally. Love was a duty that oftentimes endured betrayal, disrespect, and emptiness; it was all in the name of keeping a family together. Speaking your truth was rebellion. Choosing yourself was unthinkable. They didn’t know any better. We do.

We are still human, still searching. Because no matter how independent we are, we are wired for connection. And when we find someone to love us for exactly who we are, to witness our lives in all our beauty and mess, it feels like a gift from the universe.

But here is what I’ve learned in five decades: love is not meant to wound you. It is not careless with your heart. And it is not the job of another person to complete you.

Your happiness is your responsibility. The love of your life is not hiding on an app, in a supermarket, or waiting in a library. The love of your life is already with you, staring back in the mirror.

Anyone who walks into your life should only add to the love you’ve already built within yourself. That is the truth that will free you. I still believe in love, but the kind that is mature enough to accept flaws and mistakes, and wise enough to know that I am a gem. My fire is rare and my heart pure gold; I’m waiting for the one who knows its weight.

So tell me… who is the love of your life?

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