Here’s a fun observation: we’ve turned love into a self-improvement project.

It used to be a little simpler.
It was, “I choose you, and we grow together.”

Now it’s more like, “Become better. Heal first. Be emotionally literate. Become a romantic intellectual. Come fully baked. Then maybe, you’re worthy of love.

It now comes with an entrance exams, people!!!
Multiple choice. No short answers. Explain with three reasons.
Fail one section and you’re disqualified.

This isn’t a ‘self-improvement is bad’ post. I’m not anti-growth, trust me. I might even be a self-improvement enthusiast.

This is about how exhausting it is to love or be loved in this generation.

Love feels conditional now.
We feel pressured to be fully self-aware,  know and understand our attachment style, communicate correctly and to have fully processed our trauma.

It’s draining.
It feels like an assessment.

“I’m not ready,
“I’m still working on myself”
“I need to do A or B first.”

Sometimes, these are valid. I am in no way dismissing them.

But other times, let’s be honest. These are mostly excuses and socially acceptable ways to avoid vulnerability.

We are part of a generation that is deeply afraid of being seen. Vulnerability feels like weakness. We’d rather not let it peek to behind all the ‘macho‘ on the surface.

So love becomes something we earn after becoming whole, independent and graceful.

Self-improvement was meant to be part of love. Somewhere along the line, it became the pre-requisite.

Love, now accepting applications.