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In My Limited Experience, Let Me Tell You About The "L" Word

(This post was picked up and published on )

“Hate is only a form of love that hasn’t found a way to express itself logically.”

Let me shock you for a second by telling you who spoke those words: the one and only Lil’ Wayne. Yeah, I couldn’t believe it either; a profound statement from the man who brought us chart-toppers like, “Bitches Love Me”.

But seriously, he speaks the truth. Albeit, I believe there are different kinds of love and hate, but under the same circumstances the types exhibited are equally matched.

Here’s my first disclaimer: I’m no theorist, and despite my tendency towards flowery writing I have no intention of sounding profound. I’m an athlete, and a human who finds comfort in words and expression. This is for me and anyone who cares to read, and for who by some coincidence share my sentiment and experience. So here it goes.

I’ve maxed out my ability to hate. I’ve tried out of curiosity and misguided necessity and believe me it doesn’t work. I’ve tried out of my futile quest for comfort, I’ve heard it’s an easy train to get on; to help you forget and keep moving. I’m simply incapable of throwing my anger at someone to banish them from all corners of my mind.

Hate is a consuming thing and typically achieves the opposite of what you’ve intended. Instead of letting you go, it consumes you and ties up everything good. It’s also a cover and a barrier against what you don’t want others to see. Show me something good that’s come from hate? Bullying, violence, wars. We can’t win.

James Baldwin said, “I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hate so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain.”

Hate is selfish; think about that ‘woe is me’ attitude. When you hate, you’re the victim of your life. The world is against you and you justify your shit-throwing by claiming others as the culprits of your sadness.


Contrast that with Love. By love I don’t mean passion. Passion is crazy and all kinds of exciting and screwed up at the same time. Passion drives irrational thinking under the guise of love.

Real love comes after passion. When fire turns to ember and what is left is something comfortable and maintainable. It’s consistent and calm and above all something solid to stand on.

When some people talk about love, they talk about feeling a ‘spark’. Ok, fine, maybe initially.

But my God people WAKE UP! A spark is nothing if you think about it. It’s a flicker of possibility, that’s it! There’s no future or consistency in a spark. A spark has no fuel for its flame unless it takes, and if it can’t eventually turn itself to embers then it has nothing going for it.

So back to my ramble on love, or whatever I’ve come to know of it.

I found a bracelet a few years back with the words “Live in Love” on it, (it was a giveaway from a name-brand clothing store, regardless, someone there is doing it right). Those words are perfect and I choose to do just that. It doesn’t mean to live passively, ‘mopey’, or sappy. It doesn’t mean to live with one constant emotion like some sort of freakish Stepford personality.

It means to live with respect. Respect for myself, for my friends, for those who’ll throw their anger at me, and for the greater world I find myself in.

You can’t heal through anger. Anger is the emotional equivalent of ripping off a scab and never giving it a fighting chance to heal.

Love takes time and patience. On the risk of sounding sentimental, I’ve subscribed to the belief that with love and patience you can heal all wounds. It won’t happen overnight, it’s an uphill battle at best, but the comfort of love outweighs the volatility of hate.

I have too much going for me to consume myself with hate. I’d rather put my energy into love and understanding.

So here’s to Love…Passion…and even Hate – You’re all teaching me well.

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