My friends have started getting married.

omg—

Which makes total sense — I'm turning 30 soon, and this is supposedly the age when marriage starts occupying more mental real estate. Marriage... Until about three years ago, I honestly didn't give it much thought.

Marriage? Why bother? — that was pretty much my vibe. But suddenly it's right in front of my face before I even noticed.

There's one thing I've come to realize more than anything else in life: outside of your parents and family, everyone else is essentially... a stranger. A stranger. People generally fall into two categories: those who help you because there's something in it for them, and those rare few who maintain good relationships even without any practical benefit.

Looking back at my own life through this lens, I think I've been quietly learning how to not feel lonely while being alone. How to live happily and keep going, even by myself.

But what exactly is love? Why do people get married? Is it actually possible to love another person? Does love even exist outside of the love our parents give us?

What the Philosophers Say

In philosophy, love isn't defined as a simple emotion — it's explored through multiple lenses: relationship, skill, extension of being, will to power, altruistic empathy, and more.

Erich Fromm viewed love as an art — something that requires effort and learning.

Nietzsche saw it as an expression of the will to power and possessive desire.

Plato interpreted it as a longing toward the Ideal (goodness, beauty).

Confuciusgrounded it in compassion — an empathy that arises from witnessing others' suffering.

Alain Badiou defined love as the struggle to make "two" remain as "two," emphasizing both the difficulty and transcendence inherent in relationships.

The common thread? Love begins in relationship and demands active movement and energy.

But Does This Actually Help in Life?

Sustained energy eventually leads to exhaustion. Here's a running joke: when I talk to my married friends and senior colleagues, 99.999999% of them tell me the same thing every single day — "Don't get married." Lol

Then why did YOU get married...?

But here's the thing. When I dig a little deeper, they often admit they can't imagine what life would've been like if they hadn't. Despite what they say, you catch glimpses in their small gestures — they love their partners more than anyone.

After observing countless examples, I've arrived at my own personal definition:

Love begins in relationship and comes with enormous energy and difficulty. It may not be sustainable forever, but ultimately, that energy spent on love is used for yourself — and you become stronger and bigger because of it.

On the surface, love looks like kindness, goodwill, attention, and energy directed toward another person. But beneath all that — all the stress and struggle that comes with loving someone — it's actually making you happier and more fulfilled.

"Love as If You've Never Been Hurt"

How impossibly hard is that?

After your first love, after the heartbreak or the exhaustion of trying to keep it going, you start nurturing a different kind of love. Whether it's for another person, a machine, an object, a plant, or the universe itself.

Maybe I've become someone who can't pour out unconditional love anymore — blocked by past wounds, or perhaps just... tired of love.

On one hand, it's a little sad for both sides. But sometimes lukewarm love isn't so bad either.

I might have fallen into the arrogance of thinking I've figured out how to love someone without losing myself anymore. Since that day I swore off the kind of love where I change for the other person, where I slowly disappear — love seems to have shifted toward something that builds me up instead.

For myself. For others.

Sometimes the most radical act of love is learning to stay whole while giving it away.