Love is a Choice

Sparked by his grandfather's words, one person learns that love isn't a feeling you wait for — it's a choice you make every day, starting with yourself.

When I was twelve, I watched my grandfather get into an argument with a neighbor over a small patch of land where they both grew vegetables. He was so angry he barely touched his dinner. But the next morning, I saw him walk over to the neighbor's house carrying a basket of ripe guavas, laughing and chatting as if nothing had happened. When I asked him why, he just smiled: "Love is a choice, kid. Every morning when you wake up, you choose love — not staying angry."

I was too young to understand what he meant. I thought love was something that simply happened to you — you liked someone, so you loved them; you didn't, so you moved on. But the older I got, the more relationships I lived through — friendships, romance, family — the more I realized he'd been right all along. Feelings come and go on their own schedule, but real love is a decision you make over and over, sometimes even when the initial spark has faded.

I remember a stretch of time when a close friend from college and I nearly stopped speaking over something small — she'd forgotten to text me on my birthday. I was hurt, quietly deleted her number, told myself the friendship wasn't worth keeping anymore. Then I remembered my grandfather's words and asked myself: what would change if today I chose love instead of resentment? I sent a simple text. It turned out she'd been beating herself up over it for weeks. One small decision saved a ten-year friendship.

Choosing love every day isn't easy. Some days a stranger cuts in line at the store, some days a pointless social media post ruins your whole afternoon, some days someone close to you says something careless that quietly stings. In those moments, the natural reflex is to hold onto the anger, to build a wall. But look closely, and you'll notice: the people who hold onto anger aren't happier for it — they're just tired in a different way.

There's something my grandfather never said outright, but I figured out on my own later: before you can choose to love others in any lasting way, you have to learn to choose loving yourself first. Someone who's running on empty, someone who's constantly beating themselves up, can't easily stay open and patient with others. Putting yourself first isn't selfish — it's the baseline you need to have enough in the tank to truly show up for family, friends, and partners, instead of showing up with a tired body and an empty mind.

My grandfather is gone now, but every morning I try to remember what he told me. I don't always manage it — there are still days I choose silence over forgiveness, distance over closeness. But I believe that as long as we keep reminding ourselves that love is a choice and not just a feeling we're waiting on, the world around us still has a chance to feel a little lighter, one day at a time.