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Why Love Isn’t a Pie Chart (And Why We Should Stop Ranking It)
Lessons about love my baby son taught me
My baby son knows what he wants, and whatever it is, he makes sure to get it right away. See, before I held my son in my arms, I had no idea what it truly meant to express my needs. But my little one? He has no such hesitation.
When he wants closeness, he reaches out for it.
When he’s hungry, he cries.
His world is his own, unburdened by self-doubt or politeness, and I have the privilege of guiding him through it all. This simple, beautiful reality cracked my world wide open. It has revealed dimensions of love I never knew existed: a love that defies logic and doesn’t fit into neat categories. The bond I feel for my son is visceral, indescribable, a force of nature.
I would give my life to him without hesitation. I protect him with the ferocity of a lioness, and snuggling up with him is my purest joy. If I had to define my love for my child, it’s the kind of love that demands everything but gives back even more. But here’s what it isn’t: comparable to romantic love. And yet, for some reason, people keep trying to rank them.
