Flowing in Love
Society is saturated with stories of falling in love — whether in movies, books, or the wedding invitations on our refrigerators. All we seem to know about love is that we fall into it. But there are other ways to conceive love, ways that our society rarely promotes or even mentions.
The problem with falling in love is not in the action but in the sentence. “Falling” doesn’t quite fit love — it’s too sudden, too brief, too accidental. Falling is quick, like the impact of gravity. Yes, love might happen that way sometimes, maybe once or twice in our lives, love feels like a cliff dive into the unknown.
But what if instead of saying “I’ve fallen in love with you,” we said, “I’ve grown in love with you.”
What would it mean to love without the rush of a fall, to let love deepen like roots sinking gently into the earth? It’s curious how a single word changes not only the phrase but our entire paradigms of what loving can be. When we grow in love, we realize we can grow in love with anything. You can grow in love with people without needing to build a life around them. You can grow in love with a friend — not in a way that seeks possession, but in a way that simply treasures their presence. You can grow in love with your grandmother, not as her grandchild, but as a simple observer of the warmth in her voice when she shares stories of her youth or the wisdom hidden in her laughter.
The strange magic of growing in love is its gentle alchemy — the way it softens bitterness, transforming old wounds into tender places that finally feel like home. You can grow in love with things you once hated, finding beauty in what felt foreign. This is especially true when it comes to self-love. You may not be able to fall in love with yourself overnight; how can we go from hating our stomach, our tights, and our stretch marks to suddenly loving them? The answer is in growing in love with them; slowly, quietly, like a seedling stretching toward the light, unhurried yet unstoppable. Over time, this love unfurls — layer by layer, petal by petal — a quiet bloom that flourishes with the same patient, unrelenting care that nature shows her wildflowers.
You can grow in love with your own body — its rhythm, its scars, its strength. You can grow in love with the curve of your hips, the spark behind your almond eyes, the imperfection of your smile. You can grow in love with the parts of you you never thought were loveable.
But that’s not even the end of it. Yes, there’s falling in love, and there’s growing in love. But allow me to introduce you to one more way to perceive love: flowing in love.
Love and water are intricately connected, they are both the most powerful element and the most powerful force on Earth. Love and water mirror each other’s qualities: shapeless yet powerful, gentle yet unyielding. Love, like water, flows, adapts, and transforms. Flowing in love is learning to be like water — embracing its fluidity, knowing when to hold still and when to let go, and allowing love to take its shape around what we encounter.
Flowing in love is a moment shared between two souls in motion. Flowing in love is for the love that happens in your heart, every moment, of every day. We flow in love with people we could never date — those who are older or whose paths are so different from ours. Love isn’t always a call to partnership; sometimes it’s a quiet reverence, a recognition. Not every experience of love is a romance, and that’s the first thing flowing in love teaches us: love is vast, free of conditions, and unbound by expectation, just like the ocean.
Love, like water, has no fixed shape. Just as water takes on the shape of whatever vessel holds it, love flows into our lives, adjusting, shaping itself according to our experiences. It doesn’t need to rush or settle — it flows gently like the blood flowing through our veins. Love is a dance, sometimes slow, sometimes quick, but always moving, In love’s motion, we see that it’s never static. It’s a force that grows with us, stretching in new directions, reshaping itself in each moment, flowing through us like the tides. It’s not just about falling into something; it’s about moving with it, about allowing it to flow through your life, shaping the way you see, the way you connect, the way you create.
When we’re able to see love as water, we are able to understand its fluidity, its endless adaptability. We no longer expect it to be rigid, to stay in one place or take on a single shape. Instead, we embrace love’s constant movement, its ebb and flow.
We can then let love take its natural course — shaping us, softening us, and teaching us that its beauty lies in its uncontainable freedom. Just as water nurtures life, so too does love, flowing through us, allowing us to grow, to evolve, and to be endlessly transformed.
The next time you find yourself “falling” in love, pause. Ask yourself if you’re using that terminology because it’s the only one you’re familiar with. Go deeper into that love of yours, notice where it’s coming from, observe how it feels. Does it hit you suddenly, like gravity pulling you in? Or does it unfurl gently, like roots stretching toward the warmth of the sun? Is it a sudden plunge, or is it something slower, something that moves and shifts in quiet ripples, filling the space between you and everything you touch?
Love is not a fall, but a flow. A slow, steady current that finds its own way, weaving through your life and healing all that it touches. Notice it, celebrate it, enjoy it.
If you’re ready to explore love in its many forms — to grow in it, flow in it, and awaken to the subtle currents guiding your heart — I would be honored to hold that space with you.
✨ Book a session with me today, and let’s uncover how love is moving and flowing in your life — and how you can move with it, with courage, presence, and joy.
