I don’t know when or where in your life you are as you read this. Maybe you’re a young adult, maybe a seasoned adult. Maybe you’ll be learning how to love someone – or learning how to love yourself. What I hope you understand from reading this: love is not a destination. It’s a relationship with change.

Maybe you’ll have fallen in love with someone – or better, with yourself. Maybe you’ll be wondering what love even is.

Love. The word gets thrown around so casually, but do we really know what it means? People say, “I love pizza. I love that song. I love you.” But can one really love another person the way they love a song?

The way I see it, love has evolved throughout humanity’s existence. The way we communicate love, the way we show love, the way we give love – that’s changed along with the world we live in.

I’m writing this not as a love expert, but someone who’s lived a little – loved a lot. Someone who has made mistakes, tried again, and come to understand that love in the real world is complicated – and infinitely more beautiful – than any story we’re told growing up.

Hollywood’s grand love illusion

Hollywood has not done us any favors with its portrayal of love. Take The Notebook, Jerry Maguire, or any other grand, sweeping love story. If you showed a Martian nothing but Hollywood rom-coms and asked them to explain what love is in earthly terms, they’d probably say something like, “Love is a feeling. A moment. An epic rush of passion. It’s ‘you complete me.’”

Let’s go further back – Romeo and Juliet, a timeless, classic love story. In 1996, Baz Luhrmann directed a modern adaptation that kept Shakespeare’s original dialogue but set the story in a contemporary world.

If I were adapting the story, I’d go a step further. For starters, I’d have the couple survive. The real test in my version –hosting both the Capulets and Montagues for dinner every Sunday. Or better yet: deciding which family to visit for Christmas, five years into their relationship.

Romeo and Juliet had it easy. A flash-in-the-pan romance.

These portrayals feed a false narrative. Studies that show how the media has shaped our perception of love; and so, people grow up with unrealistic expectations. Year one is fine. Year two, still good.

But what about year ten? Or twenty?

What does love look like in a modern world full of distraction and complexity?

How do we stay present with love while everything around – and within – us keeps changing?

The reality of love in the 21st century

Back in the day, men (and some women) tended to bury their emotions. Their partners not only accepted it – they expected it.

Now, emotional intelligence isn’t just encouraged – some demand it. Many of us were raised by emotionally unavailable people, many of whom never had the tools to process love, and really any emotion, in a healthy way.

Think about it: celebrate something? Drink. Heartbroken? Drink. Time to kill? Drink. We are taught to suppress, not express (conceal, don’t feel—if you’re a Disney fan.)

Now, Gen Xers, Millennials, and Gen Zers are trying to unlearn emotional detachment while figuring out their own romantic relationships, or learning how to be with themselves.

And in the middle of all of this? A tidal wave of information. Books, podcasts, and social media posts—all telling us what love should be, what relationships should look like, and how to do them “right.”

Take The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman—a phenomenal resource for emotional self-discovery. But here’s the thing: like many frameworks, it assumes stability. One primary love language. One secondary. But love isn’t static. People change. Needs change.

Some days, words of affirmation might lift your spirits. Other days, you just want someone to take out the trash without being asked.

The silent competition: technology vs. human connection

Humans have always found ways to escape reality. Alcohol, drugs, and television—they’ve been around for decades.

But today? Distraction is in our pocket. Streaming platforms, infinite content, and curated social media feeds—each designed to hook you, feed you what you want, and keep you engaged.

And if your partner’s love language is quality time, what happens when they’re competing with an algorithm designed to know you better than you know yourself?

It’s easier than ever to avoid discomfort. To scroll rather than speak. To disconnect from ourselves and each other.

But real love? It requires presence.

Love is a choice

Real love isn’t butterflies. It isn’t the dramatic, rain-soaked confessions. Love isn’t a feeling or a moment.

It’s a choice we make every single day.

It’s easy to love when everything is fresh and exciting. But have you ever stopped and wondered what love with your partner would look like when you’re 60? 70? 90?

What about when you don’t recognize yourself anymore? When do the kids leave the house? When you’re navigating illness, loss, or uncertainty?

"You're not the same person I fell in love with" – a false narrative

I can’t remember exactly when or where, but I’ve heard it before: “You’re not the same person I fell in love with.” It’s a common breakup excuse.

A younger me agreed with this paradigm. Now, I see how absurd that statement is.

You’re not the same person you were when you started reading this entry.

Our bodies are constantly changing. Our cells are changing. Our minds and emotions are constantly in motion.

And in the face of all of this, love can remain permanent if we choose to love every day.

Real love means falling in love with different versions of the same person again and again—because love isn’t about resisting change, it’s about growing with it. It’s about recognizing who someone is becoming and choosing them still.

Sometimes the changes are subtle. Sometimes, seismic.

The person you marry at 25 is not the same person at 35, 45, or 65.

Neither are you. And that’s ok!

If you keep choosing yourself and choosing each other—with presence, with curiosity, and with grace—love won’t just survive. It will deepen.

The hardest part of love: choosing it every day

So, what does all this mean?

It means love isn’t a finish line. It isn’t a fairy tale ending.

Love in the 21st century—or in any century—is an active, daily practice. It’s about showing up. Listening. Evolving.

Because Romeo and Juliet had it easy. Their love ended before they had to navigate joint bank accounts, laundry, in-laws, or choosing what to watch on Netflix.

The real story—the real magic—is in choosing someone.

And then choosing them again. And again.