Love is life. And, if you miss love, you miss life – Dr. Felice Leonardo Buscaglia.
Originally, the images that accompany these words were intended for a completely different post; one of which I thought I needed to write and share. I did write the majority of it, late at night, tucked up in bed, in the middle of my working day when the words came to mind. However, now, I am in a place where I do not need to unleash those words; tell that chapter because it is closed, and I am so much happier now, more than ever. Instead, I wanted to share something a little different (and belated) for the Day of Lurve.
The thing about love is that it is transitional. One day we’ve fallen head over heels for someone; the next we don’t even talk to them any more. The heart is a wonderful thing: strong, protective and caring. Nevertheless, there are some loves that never die, and they usually don’t break your heart in doing so. These are the other loves of my life…
It goes without saying that my favourite people are my family; I haven’t written a separate segment called Friends because my friends are family in many ways. I don’t need to name names as those who I call family know exactly who they are. They are the people I turn to when I am in a crisis; when my heart is broken; when I have some exciting news I need to scream about; when I need a reality check, among other daily, monthly occurrences. This family of mine is a few who have stayed for eternity, a couple who have wandered in and never left, and a lot who have been as close as siblings in the past, but not so much now: the love is still there, and it always will be. These people are the loves of my life, and I am beyond grateful and lucky to have them, especially so many.
I think that travel is probably the biggest love of my life – it is something that I am constantly thinking about, always striving for, forever saving every last penny for. It is the most rewarding bliss in my life. Despite the traumas and bad experiences that come with travel, it shapes me (and everyone, I’m sure) into the person I am and the person I want to be. The thing with travel is that you can cater virtually any trip to what your needs and desires are, and what you want to get out of it (obviously providing you can afford it). For me, the opportunity of working abroad in far off countries is as exciting and thrilling as it is nerve-wrecking and frightening. Those trips are the most rewarding for me; they prove to myself and those around me that I can survive alone, in completely different surroundings. Of course, shorter trips are just as fun; even a week away can really change your outlook on life, just like my latest trip did for me.
I was going to label this one Books, but I realised that Stories is more adaptable. I love to immerse myself in stories, old and new. They do not need to be books of fiction, or even the non-fiction variety, although books are my favourite kind of story. People telling stories, whether they are historical or funny or traumatic can also have an effect on me. I remember sitting in my Nin’s back room, fire blazing, as she spoke of the Blitz when she was a young girl; I remember all the stories my Dad told me of hiding in bins so he didn’t have to go to school; I remember my Mum telling me of her late twenties riding on the back of a motorcycle in Cyprus. I read blog posts that tell a story because they are my favourite kinds of posts to read, especially the likes of Brighton Girl Problems’ The Tinder Diaries. Stories shared over glasses of wine and beer late into the twilight hours are always a great laugh, but sometimes nothing beats being curled up in a blanket with a book in hand.
As with reading, I like to tell stories of my own, mostly in the written form. If I didn’t have a love of writing, I wouldn’t be pushing out new content left, right and centre for this blog, and I wouldn’t have written nearly 200,000 words of my own stories. Writing is an outlet for me, just as it is for the millions of other content creators and storytellers in the world. It makes me happy; it rewards me; gives me immense satisfaction, and it also soothes me in a way that no other person could soothe me. Through writing, I am able to work through my own emotions and problems, find a solution for myself, and sometimes mend my own emotional aches and pains.
I am in love with possibilities. One door closes and another opens. Sometimes, life throws huge curveballs and you’re left wondering what the hell you are going to do next; four months ago my life as I knew it ended, and again one month later, but then the new year happened and something clicked in my head. I could do whatever I wanted with my life, strive for absolutely anything, and that is what I am doing. I have no idea what is around the corner, what is going to happen this year, or even in the next few months, but the possibilities are endless and, although on the surface it doesn’t seem like it, life is pretty exciting.
I’ve written how to give yourself a little bit of self love here, but in this final part of the post, I’ll tell you some of the reasons why I am my own love of my life. I’m the one person who I absolutely need to get along with every second of every day; I can’t escape myself. Ever. And so, I have to look in the mirror and love that woman who is staring right back. I’ve made mistakes; haven’t we all? I’ve been stupid before now, but I am also a kind person, a generous one, someone who is constantly positive and laughs a lot. I’ve had the confidence to live abroad solo three times and I want to do it again. I’ve been the one who has ultimately had to get myself back on two feet, and I’ve been the one who has had to get myself out of some close encounters. I’ve had to rely on myself, and therefore I love myself for that. Self-love isn’t being cocky – it’s practicing something every single person should. For ourselves.
What are the other loves of your life? Are you greedy like me and have more than one?
Love, Faye xo