Sure, it’s a cliche, but love really is the answer | Opinion

I think about love all the time.

It’s the mystery of love. I expect it in all its wonderful forms, and I welcome it.

Love is fascinating. How it forms, how it discriminates, how it drives our lives, how much we all crave this feeling and believe we need it to feel alive. There’s how it shapes who we are, how much we think we’re worthy of. But the process doesn’t care about how much we think we deserve, because love is random.

And, of course, there’s the physical touch of love.

Love can sting and fundamentally change who we are. Love leaves an indelible mark in our lives, good or bad. There are thin lines between love and hate. The reason you love someone can become the reason you hate them. You can love people you shouldn’t and throw away love from the ones you should. Time changes love.

There’s the obligatory love of family, whom you are required to love, even if you don’t like them; the love of a friend whom you choose to love; the intense love for a child whom you love without end.

There is, too, the difficult work of loving yourself with all your failings.

My mom used to tell me I was pretty. I never believed her because I knew she loved me and would say it even if I weren’t. So, I disregarded her opinion. She wasn’t objective, so it really didn’t hold any weight with me, no matter how much she loved me. I actually gave her an eyeroll every time she said it.

I wanted people who didn’t love me to tell me I was pretty. Then it would be true.

My father adored us, and us him. He showed his love through acceptance of our individuality, through good advice, consistency, true strength, his calm, steady nature. Our love affair with Daddy began with him leading by example, being there financially, imparting his great intellect for us to mirror, telling us the truth even if it hurt, making his girls strong and his boys obligated to become good, loving men, like he was. And of course, the love he demonstrated through a lifetime of free dentistry.

I love my mom, who gave us her magic, her intelligence, her pedigree, her love of language and her never failing hopefulness. And I love how my father loved the four of us, and proved it over and over, but he never said “I love you” in a mushy way until later in life.

Is the cliched question true? Is it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all? I fight with myself about that one. I have loved intensely and lost. I have loved intensely and won. I have been, and continue to be truly, intensely loved. I’ve cried inconsolably for a lost love and some loves have cried for me. I cherish true love because I respect its power and necessity. Love has made me a better person, and I crave it in all ways, shapes and forms. For me, it’s oxygen.

What I do believe is that love is the answer, always and forever. The password for love is always, “Thank you.” This Valentine’s Day, be grateful for any and all love that comes your way. It is a gift from God, who loves us all unconditionally.

Suzan McDowell is CEO & president of Circle of One Marketing, based in Miami.

This story was originally published February 13, 2020 at 4:12 PM.