Growing up, I always viewed love as important in one form only: romantic. I found myself wishing for my “happily ever after,” my rom-com moment, my one true love story.
As I’ve grown older, I’ve learned how nuanced love is. How it can bring happiness and connection, but also pain. And while I still haven’t found my “happily ever after” (and I’ve learned to be okay with that), I’ve seen my ideals of love branch out from purely romantic. I realize that maybe my great love story isn’t with a partner (although I’ll never stop being a hopeless romantic), but with the love I have for my friends and family.
I’ve only seen my love for others flourish through the past six months of Blossom as I learn and grow with all of the people who make this magazine worth loving. I hope our stories of love, in whatever form they come, connect with your inner romantic. But most of all, I hope you fall in love with Blossom as much as I have.
I struggle with the word “love.” Those four letters carry a lot of baggage, and I think I get hung up trying to quantify each thing in my life in terms of exactly how much love I should be allotting towards it. I thought that misusing the word could somehow cheapen the love that I felt for other things. I love a good book, but not as much as I love like, the entirety of autumn. I love Sour Patch Kids, but not as much as I love my grandmother.
But I’ve realized lately that this way of thinking has been holding me back. Love isn’t something that’s quantifiable. It exists infinitely, and the more we accept it, the richer our lives can be.
So with that in mind, I’m fully surrendering to love this month - especially when it comes to Blossom. I love every article we publish, every writer and artist who makes it possible, and every reader who encourages us to keep going. Thank you all for being a part of this, and thank you for being so loveable.
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