Those Things Are Not Love

Ever felt your heart race and thought, ‘This must be love!?’ What if I told you… it’s not? No. I’m not an expert but here’s my thought. Just thoughts…

Some days ago (by the time you’re reading this, it should be months or years ago), I was on a call with a friend I’ve known for several years, and tbh, this friend ticks all the boxes of what a Christian girl wants.

Maybe not all, but the most important ones. Yeah, I know you’re probably going to ask, “Why are you guys not together?”

I can’t answer that question ooo (as we say in Nigeria). I’m not even joking. I really can’t. Because some things are just the way they are, you can’t tell why they’re that way, and as this friend says, give it time—if it will be, it will be.

Now, I don’t know if I agree with his philosophy, but that’s by the way: to everyone their beliefs. I mean, I can’t go saying… no, that’s a lie. But I believe time balances every of our decisions.

So, that evening, he shared a picture of himself on his Whatsapp story, and somewhere in my mind, a conversation popped up.

My heart started feeling fuzzy, but I soon warned it to behave. “This is not love, please,” I say. Those things you wanna get fuzzy about—they are not love.

…the rapid racing or thumping of your heart that makes you skittish, that makes you stutter

…the intense yearning to be held and kissed

…the spinning of your mind, the dizzy feeling to melt into someone’s embrace

…the knotted excitement in your stomach that makes it flutter with anticipation

These things are feelings of emotional attraction and not love.

I tell myself this, and although I don’t make an effort to answer what love is, I know it must be something deeper and higher. Because some days, the things I call love are ending world hunger, disease, and death and all the rifts about gender roles and what’s not.

And some days, I think of love as whatever my heart calls it, Apparently, I have so learned that there are times in a month when women have more intense feelings that feel like love.

That is what I suspect happened. I’m just not sure if that was love, so I pray that I don’t lose my mind trying to have it all figured out. That prompted me to examine what love is not, even if I only scratch the surface.

Let’s start with the racing of hearts.

When I was younger and hungry for romance, I found my way into books that told me tales of love where a girl meets a boy and suddenly they can’t breathe. Maybe it’s just me, but I really can breathe around anyone, not even Okechukwu, whom I had a big crush on some years back.

Lol. Maka chukwu, it is not love that stops you from breathing in the presence of your admirers or crush; it’s anxiety. Someday, we’ll talk a lot about the monster called anxiety. For now, I just want you to examine what I just said and decide if it’s true or not.

But you can say maybe I’ve not really been in love. I’ll accept your opinion because perhaps my choices have been poor. I’m not even in denial.

Then… the yearning to be held and kissed.

Sis. Na lust. Kama puro, kama jale. O fe se shinor ni. That thing is the wrongest thing to measure love with, and it’s the reason we call fornication all sorts of colored terms. What is it gan gan?

To be held…

“Hand cups her face. She slides her hands back and forth over his back, grabbing him by the midsection. She feels his response to her touch. He leans into her and lets her warm body brush his. Her hands linger where they are, and he stares into her eyes…”

Oya, cut. Hope you didn’t get carried away.

Should I say that, unless you’re married, you shouldn’t act out this scene in real life? Alright, I said it. But it’s not even me. It’s the Bible. Because, let’s not lie, when man or woman put a hand for your body, e dey sweet body.

But don’t even think that is love. Yes, I have strayed enough to know too much about these things. The same hands that make your body stand are the same that can make your life snap. May you not meet such hands sha.

Oh… the kisses.

Can feel good. Like really good. Like really, really good in many different ways and places. Just because it’s that good doesn’t mean it’s love. People even kiss their enemies to get something out of them. Uncle Judas did, abi you didn’t ask Jesus?

That dizzy feeling.

That sudden sensation of wanting to lean against him because your head feels light. It’s as if he wields something that can make you float on cloud fifteen. Yeah, I know he does, but so does eating bananas, having a cold shower, or exercising. Na perspective.

See, that feeling is dopamine speaking because, well, you’re honey. I hope you dig the pun. That’s a craving, my dear. Craving for something you shouldn’t have now.

What did Paul tell Timothy again? Flee. Yeah, even Joseph did it and saved himself. I can imagine what beautiful Mrs. P was going through that made her grab him by the shirt.

That feeling too is not love; it’s just a sexual drive—mostly the effect of ovulation or natural urges we’ve refused to control. That’s it. I said it. Ovulation is the culprit most times, and I’m tempted to say Mrs. P was on heat when she did what she did.

And your belly?

…that knotted excitement that makes it flutter with anticipation.

Anticipation of what?

Going mountain hiking together? Volunteering together at a cause you both love? Making your first Greek yogurt together?

I bet you not. It’s something else. Your stomach is giving you signals to run, but you call it love because he looks irresistible. Honeybee, that’s not it.

All of these are emotions and desires that come and go. They’re fleeting. Are they fake? No, because having these experiences shows you’re a full-grown woman or man, but they’re not the proof of love. Are they wrong to have? No. Is this the place and time for them? No.

What, then, is love if none of these is?

My theory is always that if our hearts are right with God, if we trust in his will, if we want to walk in romantic love as God designed it, he’ll show us how to love the right way.

Perhaps, the way I measure myself is to check my intent. How do I see love? How do I know love?

Love is a gift of ourselves to people we absolutely can’t picture going through life without—romantic love included. I didn’t say a gift of our body. Of ourselves. Time. Attention. Care. Forgiveness. Interest. Fondness. Courage. Sacrifice. Exclusivity.

Love is the act of giving ourselves away to others and any cause we can’t turn a blind eye to. It’s minuscule, it’s macro, it’s encompassing. Love has no quantification but can be qualified by the good virtues that carry the gift of giving—ourselves.

We find this in God and his gift of himself to us. God’s act of love carries with it so many benefits. And that’s what romance or any description of love really is. Inversely, all the touching, kisses, heart racing, and dizziness are the added benefits of loving (giving ourselves) to someone we can’t imagine doing life without.

So in summary:

Love is patient

Love is kind

Love doesn’t envy

Love doesn’t boast

Love is not proud

Love doesn’t dishonor others

Love is not self-seeking

Love is not easily angered

Love keeps no record of wrongs

Love doesn’t delight in evil but rejoices with the truth

Love always protects

Love always trusts

Love always hopes

Love always perseveres

Feelings are not love. Feelings are self-seeking. Those things are not love, mai dia. Give it time and it shall pass.

Now, go protect your heart so that when the real comes you’ll be fit to recognize it. That’s what I tell myself. Selah.