Closer to Love

Sarah thought she had found her soulmate. After years of disappointments and heartbreak, Mark seemed different. He was attentive, romantic, and made her feel special in ways she had never experienced before. But three months into their relationship, familiar patterns emerged. The constant need for his approval, the anxiety when he didn't text back immediately, the way she lost herself trying to become the person she thought he wanted. Once again, she found herself asking the painful question: "Why do I keep attracting the wrong people?"

This scenario plays out in countless lives every day. We live in an age of unprecedented romantic freedom, yet meaningful connections seem more elusive than ever. Dating apps promise endless options, but many find themselves cycling through superficial encounters that leave them feeling more isolated than before. The statistics are sobering: divorce rates remain high, and studies show that loneliness has reached epidemic proportions, even among those in relationships.

The truth is, we've been looking for love in all the wrong places. We search for someone to complete us, to fill the voids we haven't yet learned to heal ourselves. We mistake intensity for intimacy, possession for love, and temporary highs for lasting connection. But what if the path to authentic love begins not with finding the right person, but with becoming the right person? What if the relationships we crave are not just possible, but waiting on the other side of our own self-discovery and healing?

When relationship expert Vex King first met his future wife Kaushal, something remarkable happened. They had attended the same school as children but had no memory of each other. Yet when he saw an old school photograph years later, one vivid memory surfaced: a moment in the playground where he had been inexplicably drawn to a girl standing with her cousins. That girl was Kaushal. Despite having no conscious recollection of her, something deeper had stirred, a recognition that transcended logic.

Their actual meeting happened years later through social media. King describes hovering over the "add friend" button for an embarrassingly long time, sensing that this connection would be significant. When they finally spoke, it felt as though they had known each other for lifetimes. They began seeing the same signs everywhere, particularly the acronym "PMA" (Positive Mental Attitude), appearing on everything from takeaway menus to street signs. It seemed the universe was conspiring to bring them together.

But here's what made their story different: both had done the inner work. King had spent years after a devastating previous relationship examining his own patterns, healing his wounds, and developing a relationship with himself. He wasn't looking for someone to complete him; he was already whole. This foundation of self-love became the bedrock of their authentic connection.

King argues that most of us enter relationships from a place of lack rather than abundance. We seek partners to fill voids, heal old wounds, or validate our worth. But love that springs from need rather than wholeness creates unstable foundations. When we haven't learned to love ourselves, we unconsciously attract partners who mirror our own unhealed parts, creating cycles of dysfunction that repeat across relationships.

The journey to authentic love must begin within. This means examining our attachment styles, understanding how our earliest relationships shaped our expectations, and healing the parts of ourselves that still carry old pain. Only when we can offer love from a place of fullness rather than emptiness can we create the kind of relationships that truly nourish both partners. The external search for love becomes an internal journey of becoming the kind of person capable of both giving and receiving authentic love.

King introduces us to Rory, whose parents divorced when he was five. Growing up, Rory rarely saw his father and watched his mother struggle with a series of boyfriends who came and went. The instability created a deep fear of abandonment in Rory, though he wasn't consciously aware of it. By his late teens, this fear had transformed into a protective mechanism: he would end relationships after just a few dates, convinced that leaving first was better than being left.

When King met Rory, he saw a genuinely kind person trapped by unconscious patterns. Rory had built emotional walls so high that even he couldn't see over them. He genuinely wanted connection but sabotaged every opportunity for it. His fear of abandonment had become a self-fulfilling prophecy, ensuring the very outcome he most dreaded. Rory had become what King calls an "emotional hoarder," clinging to old pain because it felt safer than risking new hurt.

King's solution for Rory was radical: drawing what he calls "cut-off lines." These are conscious decisions to separate past experiences from present realities. Instead of "I'm like this because this happened to me," the reframe becomes "This happened to me, but I'm not going to let it stop me from finding happiness." This isn't about denying the impact of past wounds but refusing to let them dictate future possibilities.

The process requires what King calls "emotional decluttering." Just as physical hoarders must learn to let go of objects that no longer serve them, emotional hoarders must release patterns, beliefs, and protective mechanisms that have outlived their usefulness. This might mean forgiving parents who did their best with their own limitations, releasing anger toward ex-partners who couldn't love us the way we needed, or simply accepting that past pain doesn't have to determine future joy.

King emphasizes that this work isn't about perfection. We don't need to be completely healed to enter healthy relationships. But we do need awareness of our patterns and a commitment to growth. When two people enter a relationship with this consciousness, they can support each other's healing rather than triggering each other's wounds. They become allies in each other's growth rather than prisoners of each other's past. The relationship becomes not just a source of love but a vehicle for transformation.

The artist Marina Abramović once sat motionless in a chair at the Museum of Modern Art for three months, allowing strangers to sit opposite her in silence. Visitors waited hours for the chance to spend just one minute in this space of pure presence. King uses this as a metaphor for true intimacy: the willingness to be completely seen without performance, pretense, or protection. When Abramović's former lover unexpectedly appeared and sat across from her, the raw emotion that passed between them wordlessly demonstrated the profound power of authentic vulnerability.

King argues that most of us confuse intimacy with intensity. We mistake drama for depth and passion for connection. True intimacy, however, is much quieter and more sustainable. It's the ability to share our authentic selves without fear of rejection, and to witness our partner's authentic self without judgment. This requires what King calls "emotional nakedness" – a willingness to be seen in our imperfection and humanity.

The path to intimacy begins with self-trust. If we don't trust our own judgment, feelings, and perceptions, how can we expect to build trust with another? King shares his own journey of learning to trust his intuition about his relationship with Kaushal. Even when external circumstances seemed uncertain, his inner knowing remained steady. This self-trust became the foundation for the trust they built together.

Communication in intimate relationships goes beyond exchanging information; it becomes a practice of mutual witnessing. King describes "love talks" – conversations where both partners commit to listening with their hearts rather than their defenses. These aren't problem-solving sessions but opportunities to understand each other's inner worlds. When his wife shared her fears and insecurities, King's first impulse was to fix or reassure. Learning to simply hold space for her emotions without trying to change them deepened their connection immeasurably.

Vulnerability in relationships also means being willing to have the difficult conversations that many couples avoid. King advocates for regular "relationship check-ins" where partners can share their needs, concerns, and dreams without fear of judgment or immediate solutions. These conversations require courage because they risk temporary discomfort for the sake of long-term intimacy. But this willingness to navigate uncertainty together builds the kind of trust that can weather any storm.

King and his wife Kaushal don't have a perfect relationship, but they have something more valuable: a daily practice of choosing love. King describes their early years together as a journey from unconscious reactivity to conscious response. When triggered by each other's behaviors, they learned to pause and ask: "What is this really about?" Often, the surface issue masked deeper needs for security, understanding, or validation.

Their transformation came through what King calls "love as a verb" – the recognition that love is not just a feeling but a series of daily choices and actions. When Kaushal asked King to take photos of her, his initial reaction was annoyance. But he learned to reframe these moments as opportunities to serve the person he cherished. Instead of seeing her requests as interruptions, he began to see them as invitations to express love through action.

This shift from feeling-based love to choice-based love creates stability that can withstand the natural ebbs and flows of emotion. King explains that the neurochemical high of early romance is not sustainable – our bodies aren't designed to maintain that level of intensity indefinitely. But when couples learn to love through actions rather than just emotions, they can create lasting bonds that deepen over time rather than diminishing.

The daily practice includes what King calls "maintenance love" – the small, consistent actions that keep relationships strong. This might mean putting away phones during dinner conversations, expressing gratitude for everyday kindnesses, or choosing gentle responses during moments of stress. It's about creating what he calls "deposits in the love bank" through accumulating positive interactions that can sustain the relationship through inevitable difficult periods.

King emphasizes that this approach doesn't eliminate conflict but transforms how couples navigate disagreements. Instead of fighting to be right, they fight for the relationship. Instead of attacking each other's character, they address specific behaviors. Instead of bringing up past grievances, they focus on present solutions. This requires what King calls "emotional maturity" – the ability to regulate one's own reactions and respond from a place of love rather than fear, even when triggered.

Near the end of his journey, King shares a profound realization: the love he and Kaushal created together began to overflow into every area of their lives. Their relationship became not just a source of personal happiness but a foundation for contributing to the world. When two people heal their own wounds and create authentic connection, they naturally want to share that gift with others.

This expansion of love beyond the romantic relationship reflects what King sees as love's ultimate purpose. Rather than being a scarce resource to be hoarded between two people, love is an abundant energy that grows when shared. King describes how their relationship gave them both the security and confidence to pursue their individual purposes with greater courage and compassion.

King also addresses the reality that not every relationship will reach this level of transcendence, and that's okay. Some relationships serve as teachers rather than life partners, helping us learn important lessons about ourselves and what we truly need. The key is approaching each relationship with gratitude for its gifts rather than bitterness over its limitations.

For those who choose to remain single, King emphasizes that authentic love is still completely accessible. Self-love and love for friends, family, and community can provide the same spiritual fulfillment that romantic love offers. The goal isn't necessarily to find "the one" but to become someone capable of authentic love in whatever form it takes.

King concludes with a vision of love as a way of life rather than just a relationship status. When we embody love as our default mode of being, we naturally attract and create loving relationships at every level. We become sources of healing in a world that desperately needs it. Our personal relationships become laboratories for the kind of love that could transform not just our own lives but our entire society.

The journey from loneliness to authentic love is ultimately a journey from seeking to becoming. King's exploration reveals that our romantic struggles often reflect deeper disconnections from ourselves and from love as a universal force. When we heal these disconnections, we don't just find better relationships – we become better people, capable of creating the kind of love that nourishes everyone it touches.

The practical wisdom woven throughout these stories offers hope for anyone who has ever felt discouraged by past relationship failures or overwhelmed by the complexity of modern love. By doing our inner work, learning to communicate authentically, and choosing love as a daily practice, we can create relationships that not only fulfill our deepest needs but also contribute to a more loving world. The love we've been seeking has been within us all along, waiting for us to claim it, cultivate it, and share it with courage and grace.