The Quiet Power of Being Truly Known

...love isn’t a checklist, it’s being seen

I’ve been thinking a lot about love lately, how we define it, how we chase it, and how often we mistake the idea of it for the real thing.

This piece came out of an old memory, a conversation I overheard, and a version of myself I no longer carry. But maybe you still do. If you’ve ever tried to logic your way into love, or measured compatibility like it’s a recipe, this one’s for you.

And as always, there’s a playlist at the end. For the soft moments. For the knowing. For the girls who still believe.

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Love Is Not a Checklist (But I Used to Think It Was)

I used to believe I could build love from a spreadsheet.
You laugh, but I’m serious. I had columns, bullet points, a mental deck of criteria. A mental LinkedIn boyfriend, if you will. Tall. Ambitious. Slight stubble. Bonus points for emotional intelligence and an appreciation for indie cinema.

I didn’t call it a checklist at the time. I called it manifestation. Or alignment. Or whatever other word I’d found on Pinterest that week.

It all started in my uni flat, sprawled on the floor with girls I thought I’d know forever, glue sticks in hand, elbows knocking as we made vision boards of our futures. Love looked like wedding rings, shirtless men holding babies, European honeymoons. Aesthetics, basically. None of us questioned it, we just cut, pasted, believed.

I carried that version of love around for years like a loyalty card I was trying to stamp out.

I dated men who made sense on paper. The kind your friends nod approvingly at. The kind your parents quietly approve of. I tried to make it make sense. But love doesn’t make sense. It makes a mess. And the real kind, the kind that roots itself in your chest and won’t leave, is the exact opposite of logical.

Because real love is not a box you tick.

It’s not a Hinge profile with matching interests. It’s not someone who remembers your coffee order and looks good in relaxed fit outfit (though, let’s not lie, that’s nice too). Real love is quieter. Stranger. It sneaks in when you’re not performing. When you’re crying at 2am about something that happened five years ago. When you’re being small and scared and nothing like your curated self.

That’s when it matters most.

Yesterday, on the train, I overheard a girl say, “I just need someone who meets my standards.”
And I get it. I get it. I used to say the same. Standards, boundaries, healthy expectations, these are good things. Necessary things. But love isn’t a job interview. You don’t fall in love with a CV.

You fall in love with someone’s pauses. Their silences. The way they hold their hands when they’re nervous. The way they sit next to you in quiet, no fixing, no suggestions.. just presence.

You fall in love with the parts of them they think are unlovable. And they do the same for you.

The way you flinch when someone raises their voice. The way you shrink when you feel like too much. The way you apologise just for taking up space. And instead of recoiling, they lean closer. They say, I see you. And they mean it.

That’s what shifted everything for me.
Love isn’t about being impressive.
It’s about being seen, and still being chosen.

So if you have that, hold it with both hands.
And if you don’t?
Wait. Please wait. Don’t trade your softness for someone’s convenience.

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Playlist: “Soft but Strong”
For the ones who feel too much and love too hard.

Play it while you wash dishes, walk around the block, or sit in bed staring at the ceiling. Let it hold you.

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Footnotes & References:

1. The “Pinterest Manifestation Era” - a time of aesthetic delusion we’ve all survived.

2. Love on paper: looks good in theory, dissolves in the rain.

3. Inspired by real-life eavesdropping and the ghost of every situationship I tried to force into meaning.

4. Real love: less “Netflix compatibility,” more “can sit in silence for an hour and not panic.”

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A Soft Invitation:

Check in with yourself.

Are you chasing the idea of love or allowing space for the real thing?
Are you trying to deserve it, or letting yourself be loved as you are?

Let this be a gentle reminder: You don’t have to be anyone else to be worthy. You don’t have to tick boxes to be chosen.

You're already enough.

- B