23/06/2026
Nobody tells you what it will feel like.
People can describe love.
They can write poems about it, sing about it, analyse it, explain attachment, chemistry, longing, heartbreak, devotion, grief, loss, survival.
They can describe it beautifully.
And still, the description is not the thing.
One of the earliest questions I remember asking was, โWhat is love?โ Everybody seemed to have an answer. Poets wrote about it. Musicians sang about it. Psychologists explained it. Philosophers wrestled with it. The world seemed full of descriptions, yet none of them felt as though they were describing the same thing.
Over the course of falling in love, heartbreak and everything in between โ more than once, I might add โ I came to the conclusion that I didnโt understand it. Eventually, I decided I didnโt want it.
Then one day, someone looked into my eyes and understood me in a way I didnโt know was possible.
Every description Iโd ever read fell silent. Every theory disappeared. Every book became secondary to a single moment.
That is how life teaches the things that matter.
Grief is the same. You can understand the stages, the language, the psychology, the polite things people say. Then someone you love is gone, and suddenly none of it is the same knowledge. It is in your body. In your mornings. In the empty chair. In the ordinary little moments that keep happening while your whole world has changed.
Love did that.
Loss did that.
Friendship has done that.
Health has done that.
Life has continued to show me that the deepest things are never really understood from the outside. They are recognised from within the experience itself.
That doesnโt make books useless.
It doesnโt make teachers useless.
It doesnโt make guidance useless.
It means they can only ever bring us to the edge of something.
Life is where spirit reveals itself.
Through love.
Through grief.
Through joy.
Through uncertainty.
Through the moment when every explanation runs out, and something in you says:
Now I KNOW.
๐โค๏ธ
Love to you all.
Lizzie
