Like many people who have been raised by pop culture, I've always had ideas about romance that revolve around the “grand gesture.” Whether it's surprising your partner (or the person you want to be your partner) with a big-money purchase—a diamond or car or house—or risking life and limb to run through airport security to inform them you've quit your job so you can be together a thousand miles from home, the grand gesture supposedly shows great sacrifice, and we're led to believe that love is only as meaningful as the sacrifices we are willing to make for it.
Like anyone who has grown critical of the messages they have received from pop culture, I know that’s all bullshit. Not because I’m a millennial who can't (and probably will never be able to) afford a diamond or car or house, but because I have lived and grown, loved and lost. I know love can’t be held or nurtured by moving from grand gesture to grand gesture, constantly sacrificing without taking the time to ask what you’re sacrificing toward. Love is a practice.
But what does that practice look like? That's something I'm still learning. I was in a relationship a few years ago that showed me I didn't know, and, as a result, I fucked it up in a major way (a topic for another time). I’m in a different relationship now, and I feel loved like I never have before—in ways I didn’t think possible or thought myself unworthy of. Naturally, I want to reciprocate that love, and figuring out how is something that confounds me every day.
Esta historia es de la edición February 2022 de Playboy Africa.
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Esta historia es de la edición February 2022 de Playboy Africa.
Comience su prueba gratuita de Magzter GOLD de 7 días para acceder a miles de historias premium seleccionadas y a más de 9,000 revistas y periódicos.
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