When I was 10, love could be summed up in a quote from my favorite movie of all time.
"It was a million tiny little things that, when you added them all up, they meant we were supposed to be together. And I knew it. I knew it the very first time I touched her. It was like coming home, only to no home I'd ever known. I was just taking her hand to help her out of a car. It was like… magic."— Sam, in Sleepless in Seattle
All I had to do was find the other half of my soul. No biggie.
I did, however, live on an island — and not just any island, but the most isolated island chain on the whole planet. No biggie.
What if my soulmate was waiting for me on the other side of the world?
What if, by the time I found her, she had already found someone else?And what if the someone else was a nice person?
Would I spend the rest of my life alone?And on an island.
Wait — is there even a perfect someone for me?
Or could I be perfectly happy with a number of different partners? Well, maybe not gingers.
Is my person in my class right now?Is she the annoying one I don't really like?
Do I even need another person to make my life feel complete?You get a whole new family with hula.
And what the heck is great love anyway?
My parents, who have been married for over 50 years, did not give the best love advice. Sorry, Mom and Dad.
"The best is Wenzhounese, so she can speak our language. But any Chinese is okay — and if you have to, you can marry Japanese."— My parents
As it turns out, my parents may have been the first generation in their entire lineage of 200 generations to have had the opportunity to pursue a love marriage. Every generation before them was likely arranged, usually between second cousins.
Remarkably, we are all part of the first generations with the peculiar opportunity to pursue love for love's sake.
We may have had the capacity much longer, but the cultural idealization of romantic love was only popularized in the 12th century, in the medieval courts of France — the term courtly love wasn't even coined until 1883. Romance wasn't really a thing until recently. Before that, it was mostly about property transfer.
For two young people in their 20s in 1970s Hong Kong, my parents turned to a matchmaker and followed a traditional recipe for an arranged marriage — familial compatibility: tribe, village, and class.
I, on the other hand, grew up in Hawai'i — a place where Wenzhounese people were not common, but romantic comedies were.
I also watched a lot of talk shows. Oprah, anyone?
Subconsciously, though, this is who I thought I'd end up making my life with: a romantic island surfer girl, well-read, who liked dim sum on Sundays. And who was probably Chinese.
And this is who I happily ended up with: an enthusiastic East Coast dork-sy friendly face who makes everything in my life easier and every day more joyful. Not Chinese — but she does like dim sum on Sundays.
In between was a lot of anxiety, crushing heartbreak and, thankfully for me, a lot of luck.
What no one tells you is that the person you decide to make a life with will singularly change the arc of your life — more than perhaps any other decision you make.
It may be impossible to really know whether this new arc is better or worse, but here are some of the things a life partner changes: where you live, what you eat, what you can keep sacred for yourself, what friends you keep close, how far you are from your family, what line of work you feel supported to do, what level of regret you carry at the end of your life, and what joy you have every day.
What no one tells you is that you don't need a great romantic love to have a fulfilling life.
Great love is not just a string between two people but a ring of beautiful hands held together in a myriad of ways.
Modern society and romantic comedies have overemphasized the importance of couples.
What no one tells you is that most of the questions I asked my younger self about love will always remain part of the beautiful mystery of life.
A few of the great mysteries: whether there are several people you could be happy with; whether you knew your partner in a past life or universe; whether your life would be better had you just gone to that party, or taken that job. You'll never truly know the answers to these.
Is it all just luck, anyway?
And if it is just luck, should we spend less energy worrying and more time savoring every moment of great love we are part of — or witness to?
Um, what the heck is great love?