Lately, I’ve been obsessed with a nagging question: How do we fall out of love?
I don’t mean in a romantic sense — at least, this is not solely what I mean.
I want to know how and why we fall out of love with a passion project or career, our homes, neighborhoods, cities and, even, ourselves.
To examine how this malaise can creep up on us, I’ve been doing some digging into how we fall in love in the first place. Buried in that rich soil are nuggets of enlightening information such as this one: the phrase “fall in love” harkens back to the 1500s. And while the word “fall” certainly carries negative meanings (fail, decay, die), some lovesick soul must have thought it fitting for the act of loving someone or something outside of the self. With a flashback to my days of studying the 16th century poets who lived in the early days of this phrase, I reached out to my former high school AP Literature teacher (from the late 1980s!) to probe her thoughts on the dance between enchantment and disenchantment, illusion and disillusion. Mrs. Roberts and her husband pointed me to songs and, of course, literature.
As I pore over their recommendations, I am reminded of when it is that many of us find ourselves falling hard for something or someone. It is often when we are subsumed in gloom. Suddenly, a spark reawakens a part of our heart we believed was closed. In this way, each time we fall in love with another (a romantic prospect, a newborn baby, a new friend), or even with an idea, we are falling back in love with ourselves.
This issue covers two of the most celebrated months of the year — January harbors the hope we sow into turning over a new leaf, while the marketing around the month of love, February, works to refuel our belief in it. And even if you find Valentine’s Day saccharine and New Year’s resolutions laughable, let’s try to lean into the sweetness of possibility. Let’s tuck our cynics away for at least this first part of the year and see what happens!
When I sat down to write this note, I treated myself to a golden pot of tea, my teal-and-gold teacup, and a little strawberry shortcake I placed on a pretty plate just for me. Each step was a tiny action of love — and a reminder that falling can happen slowly, methodically, and intentionally. The stories in this issue attest to this. Michele Raphael explores dating while parenting (and all the joys and frustrations that can come along with it); Dayna Lynne North goes on a quest to restore herself during a retreat in Cabo San Lucas; Dr. Columbus Batiste teaches us that “selfish” parenting can spell wellness for the whole family and two former high school friends are bringing their Earlybirds Club, nightlife for women and non-binary people who want to party early and get home early, to Los Angeles.
The photos alone will make you smile. And, I hope, remember to turn on some music and dance. If you fall, may it be a soft (and loving) landing.
