Love isn’t always easy to define. When I was young, it seemed easier. I knew I was loved because the signs around me seemed to fit with what my mom and dad taught me about love. Love, at that time, meant smiles, hugs, nice words, nice actions, respect and sincerity. I think that what put the icing on the cake is that I lived with two people who knew how to love deeply and if the world shared a moment that was not necessarily slathered in kindness, I was instantly surrounded by their love. My mom would kiss my forehead, give me that emotional band-aid that only a momma can give and I was on my way. That feeling — that love feeling — was my favorite thing about life. It gave me purpose and I wanted to create more of it. I quickly picked up on the fact that a smile given would often lead to another and another. I became a smile producer of sorts, or so it seemed. I met a man on my 19th birthday. I knew he was the right one and I said yes. We married and began a life together. My idea of love was challenged at times. Sex entered the picture. It was a very big part of his definition of love. I learned how to fit the word into my definition. Our life together was built on he chasing me while I was busy smiling at the world. Every so often he’d catch me and at that moment, the world outside he & I, didn’t cross my mind. Now, we’ve been married for going on 35 years. We have two grown children and 4 grandchildren and my husband has been diagnosed with FTD (Frontotemporal Degeneration). After years of marriage, motherhood and life in general… what does love look like at this moment? It’s become a bit complicated. It includes notions such as confidence, fearlessness, honesty, boundaries, etc… and much less people pleasing. My past definition of love, as a child, didn’t include any sort of a protection clause, other than my parents. What worked then definitely doesn’t work now. As I look back, once I married, I replaced the names on that protection plan (mom & dad) to that of my husband. He was my protector. If someone treated me poorly, he’d talk me through the hurt, stand up for me and offer a similar band-aid. Now, especially since my Mr. has been diagnosed with this disease that robs a part of our emotional connection, I have to find ways to love and protect myself while loving him. I have to get past the missing love signs — the little love notes he’d leave and his ‘bucket of love’ eyes. He is still amazing and wonderful and loves me in a new way and my love for him is never ending. However, again, I’m faced with a new rendition of love and I’m learning how to maneuver from it. I’m learning to be honest with others and ask for what I need. If someone is hurtful, it’s ok to step away from that relationship. It’s ok to gift myself with what is needed for the moment. I’m learning to protect my most precious asset… the love within. I remind myself daily that my journey is exactly what it says… MY journey. Other people don’t have to understand it and as with any new program — I mess up as I stumble through the beginning phases of this love stage. My hope is to eventually compile all of the chapters of my love lessons and function from balance… to be seasoned in the love I knew as a child combined with the love shared with another individual and this new love of truth & value for myself. I am far from being a master but am reminded that our purpose is designed for the greater good and is much bigger than just one person. From there — I trust.