By Naazi Morad
There’s a kind of heartbreak that doesn’t come from betrayal or abandonment, it comes from loving too hard, too fast, too desperately. It’s the kind of love that feels like drowning in your own devotion. You give everything, hoping it will be enough to keep someone from leaving. But instead of anchoring them, your love becomes the very tide that pushes them away.
We don’t talk enough about this kind of love; the kind that masquerades as care but is rooted in fear. The kind that turns affection into interrogation.
“Why are you late?”
“Who are you chatting with?”
“Why didn’t you reply?”
It’s not love—it’s surveillance.
It’s not intimacy, it’s control dressed in longing.
We become detectives in our own relationships, searching for clues that someone might be slipping away. And in doing so, we lose ourselves. We stop recognizing the person in the mirror. The one who used to laugh freely, who used to feel whole. Now, she cries with a broken heart and calls it love. But love didn’t break her; fear did.
We blame love. We say, “Love hurts.” But love, in its purest form, doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t accuse. It doesn’t compete. It doesn’t chase.
True love is not a transaction. It’s not something we earn by being good enough, available enough, or broken enough. It’s not something we force or manipulate. It’s not a performance, it’s a presence.
Love is gentle.
It arrives quietly, like the tide kissing the shore. It doesn’t demand it invites. It doesn’t overwhelm, it holds. And here’s the truth we often forget: You don’t look for love. You be love.
And when you become love, when you embody it in your boundaries, your healing, your self-recognition love finds you. Not just in romance, but in friendships, in purpose, in the way the morning light touches your skin.
So to the broken hearts, the once-in-love, the restless souls: You are not unlovable. You are not too much. You are simply being called back to yourself.
Love you first !
