I Love You to the Moon and Back

I recall those Valentine’s Days when I was single — there were many — where I felt that sting of loneliness and a sense of FOMO. During those years, I believed being adored by a man would help me validate my worth, without the comprehension that I needed to honour myself too.

My knowledge of love was artless and an unknown territory. Growing up with parents who didn’t love themselves or each other — born from broken upbringings — was an unfavourably regrettable legacy for me.

And so, having little understanding of the true essence of love, I searched in the wrong places to try to grasp its concept, adding the definition of spirituality to its core. This was the only way I could tangibly make sense of love.

My old relationships revolved around my ego, in how the person made me feel. It wasn’t until motherhood happened in my early thirties, for the first time, that I was able to acknowledge a love that knew no bounds — a root so strong that it felt unconditional, and not based on feelings.

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The grim part of the commercialism of Valentine’s Day can leave some singletons feeling socially pressured, have doubts about their worth and feel sadness around that celebration. Valentine’s Day can be deemed a heartless day focused only on money-making profits, yet its roots had different intentions.

Originally a pagan festival derived by the Romans and known as Lupercalia, also known as Lupercal, was a pastoral festival of Ancient Rome observed annually on 15th February to purify the city, and promote health and fertility.

It was later, in 496 AD, when Pope Gelasius officially established 14th February as the Feast of St. Valentine to replace Lupercalia, Christianizing the date, with romantic associations with the day fully emerging centuries later, honouring the martyr, St. Valentine.

And this celebration only evolved into more of a commercial connotation in the 1700s, in which formal messages were printed, but still, sadly, far from the mass-marketed phenomenon it is today.

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I feel we could benefit from having a deeper understanding of what love truly entails, rather than just the romantic love aspect. The Ancient Greeks understood the multifaceted nuances and complexities of what love can be made up of and characterised these depths with more definite meanings.

Eros

Philia

Storge

Ludus

Mania

Pragma

Philautia

Agape.

Eros is an enthusiastic, sensual, and romantic love that we experience with the physical attraction and intense desire for someone. It’s erotic, filling us with intrigue and dreaminess. It can be tempting and tantalising, provocative, and salacious. Strong chemistry and even infatuation; I know that one, it can feel almost like an obsession. Haven’t we all been there?

Philia is a mutual love, a respect for one another — like a brotherly love. It’s not about a physical attraction but an affectionate and warm-hearted love. The fondness felt between friendships, shared values, trust, and a love that is felt between friends who have endured hard times together. I know I have a few girlfriends like this; we get each other, and we see each other.

Storge is a natural love that family members have. The love that children have for their parents, and the love parents have for their children. Childhood friends who have grown into adulthood together feel this type of tender love. I have this love for my daughter; it’s unconditional and beautiful. Since my estranged father’s recent death, I rediscovered this love with my twin and siblings.

Ludus is playful, flirtatious, and affectionate. It is the type of love we feel when we have a crush on someone, non-committal or even in the honeymoon stage of a relationship. The teasing and the fluttering of our hearts and the sense of euphoria. I know it’s so important to keep this type of love thriving in the later stages of our long-term relationships.

Mania is the intense, ugly, insecure type of love; it is a love that turns into an obsession. When a co-dependent loves a person for a sense of self-validation, their love can become possessive, jealous, and needy. Many psychological films and dramas have fascinated us with this darker side of love.

Pragma is the love that comes from a longstanding and mature relationship, built on long-term commitment. It is a love that has transcended the physical and has become harmonious from the healthy habits of compromise, tolerance, and patience. I once saw a sketch depicting an older couple in which tree-like roots had grown and twisted together at their feet; it felt powerful.

Philautia is a healthy self-love that comprises a sense of common humanity and self-compassion. When you can love yourself, you can give more compassion for others, as you cannot share what you do not have. As Aristotle said, “All friendly feelings for others are an extension of a man’s feelings for himself.” The only way you can be genuinely happy is to find unconditional love for yourself. Still, this love can also carry an unhealthy narcissistic love, depending on its manifestation. We have all seen the fascination with selfies, and I have been in that place in my life.

Agape is a selfless and spiritual love; this love feels unconditional. It holds boundless compassion for strangers, and an infinite empathy for something bigger than us, as in God and nature. It is the purest and highest form of love within the eight branches.

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These pools of love are a plentiful well to pull from, although perhaps mania isn’t so hot. Yet, understanding the intricacies of love can help us be better composed and confident in our relationships. Whether these are intimate or platonic, love is more than two-dimensional and truly fundamental in our spiritual, emotional, and physical well-being.

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