No. 22: Love is a Verb — But It Shouldn’t Be a Job

Redefining Effort and Care

We hear it all the time:

Love is a verb.

Love takes work.

And while that can be true,

somewhere along the way,

love started to sound like labor.

Like effort without rest.

Like endurance without repair.

Like proving, again and again,

that you’re worthy of staying.

When Love Becomes Work

I’ve known love that felt like a checklist.

Show up.

Hold it together.

Anticipate needs.

Smooth edges.

Carry more than my share.

I called it devotion.

I called it commitment.

But my body called it exhaustion.

When love becomes a job,

there’s no clocking out.

No place to lay things down.

Only the quiet fear that if you stop trying,

everything will fall apart.

A Softer Definition

Real love still takes care.

But it also takes ease.

It makes room for breath.

For imperfection.

For mutual tending.

Love as a verb doesn’t mean constant effort.

It means consistent presence.

It means repair instead of punishment.

It means choosing each other

without keeping score.

Letting Love Be Human

I’m learning that love doesn’t need to be earned through depletion.

It doesn’t need to hurt to be real.

It doesn’t require me to disappear.

The truest love I’ve known

meets me where I am

and lets me rest there.

A Reminder for You

If love feels like a job right now,

pause and listen.

Love can ask for care

without demanding your collapse.

You’re allowed to want a love

that feels shared,

steady,

and humane.

If you’re redefining love too,

you’re not asking for too much.

—Steph