Love and the way it finds us

This morning, as I write a scene for Project BK about different kinds of love, I find myself transported back through the many types of love I’ve experienced.

I love love. And the first time I knew I longed for it was when I had a dream of being in someone’s arms—asleep, warm, and at peace. I felt like I belonged. Like I was home.

Maybe it was unrealistic to hold onto that feeling—to search for something I had only ever felt in a dream—but I couldn’t help but hope it existed in the real world.

Here are a few thoughts on the almost-loves that led me to the real thing:

The First One:

When I first met Kevin in college, I thought he might be it. Our stories became entangled when our friendship shifted into something more. It was winter, and he had injured himself playing football. As his friend, I often helped him get around campus. Inadvertently, we spent more time together.

One evening, over cups of instant mac and cheese, watching some movie in his dorm suite, the air between us felt almost like my dream. But it wasn’t. It was too excitable—like I was on edge all the time. I was floating so high above the clouds that I lost sight of the ground I should have been walking on. We were young. Naturally, we parted ways as life took us to different directions. I stayed in Houston, and he left for College Station.

And long distance at such a young age was brutal.

The Hard Lesson:

Matt gave me the lesson of a lifetime. He taught me patience—and what love could have been like. But, this love was volatile and selfish. Though there were flashes of peace, there wasn’t a single moment that truly held it.

We grew into adulthood together. Ten years of it, to be exact. Somewhere along the way, we grew apart. He wanted marriage. I wanted a career. And I chose that over him—again and again.

The end of us became my dark night of the soul. And it wasn’t just one night—it was many. Nearly a year of unraveling who I was and who I thought I wanted to be.

The Healing:

In that year, I met many types of love in the friendships that surrounded me.

Estela was my best friend—and the first person to give me that same feeling I had dreamt of: peace and comfort. Through her, I met many others who gave me that sense of belonging. And I leaned into all of them: Priya, Jessica, Caitlin, and Kelsey.

I came to see them as light posts—gentle beacons in the darkness. They glowed softly, offering me reprieve from the eternal midnight I found myself in. Through them, I started to fall in love with myself—the way God saw me.

That was it. That feeling. I was comfortable. At peace. Home.

But, God has a way of shaking things up. And shook He did.

The Coming Home:

Then I met Brian.

It was as if… he was me.

I remember wondering how someone could feel so familiar. From music to hobbies, politics to faith—we were so alike, it was terrifying. A stranger from the Internet, and yet somehow, he was living the same life I was. Only minutes away (literally, physically only minutes away).

I remember our first hug. He asked, “Why do you feel so much like home?”

And I remember thinking the exact same thing.

Green flag: when he holds your hand while driving around town

Brian tore down walls I didn’t realize I had built. He reminded me to love freely, like I had never been hurt. He took my hand gently and helped me experience life again—but this time, with him.

Every day with him was brand new. Exciting and scary. And still… peaceful. Like I belonged right there beside him. He held my heart next to his—careful, considerate, and consistent.

On one of the many nights driving home from work, I asked God for clarity and guidance because I wanted to move through this relationship in a way that honored Him (a biiig difference from past relationships).

And then, as if something struck me, I thought, I’m going to marry him.

It was the clearest thought I’d ever had.

Six months later, on a drunken night, I remember Brian holding my hair back and whispering, “I’m going to marry you.”

Six months after that, he proposed—with a house on a piece of land.

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All the other loves I experienced led me here. Each one taught me something I needed in order to become the right person for Brian, my now-husband. He is my best friend, my peace, my rock, and the place I call home.

Sometimes, I think we’re meant to experience different kinds of love so we can learn how to love ourselves—and know we’re worthy when real love finally comes.

So, to those still looking for love: be open. Lean in.

To love is to be brave.

And being brave might just lead you home.

At the height of COVID, we found a small court room to tie the knot