Love Is a State. Access Is a Choice.

Somewhere along the way, we picked up this quiet but wildly misleading idea that love means we must like someone all the time, agree with them, and keep them close no matter what. It sounds sweet in theory, but in real life… it falls apart pretty quickly.

Because humans are gonna human.

I remember when my kids were little — way before I knew what I know now — and one of them hit me with the classic, dramatic, end-of-the-world declaration: “I hate you.” You know the moment. Big feelings, zero filters, probably over something like not getting what they wanted.

And I remember responding, very calmly, “We don’t hate. We very severely dislike… but we don’t hate.”

At the time, I didn’t have some deep philosophical reasoning behind it. It just felt true. Hate felt too heavy, too final… like slamming a door that didn’t need to be slammed. Apparently, it stuck, because they started saying it to their friends like it was official family policy. Nothing like your kids quoting you out in the wild to keep you humble.

Years later, I had one of those moments with my husband that still makes me smile.

I told him, “Hunny, I love you so much… and most of the time, I even like you.”

So I asked him, “Do you like me all the time?”

These days, after 37 years of doing life together, I tell him, “Hunny, I love you — and best of all, I even like you.” And honestly, that might be one of the most real and honest expressions of love there is. Not the polished version. Not the fairy tale. The real one. The one that has seen a gazillion moods, a bazillion moments, and still chooses to stay.

Over the years, and especially through my spiritual journey, my understanding of love has expanded in ways I couldn’t have imagined back then. In teachings like The Law of One (Ra Material), there’s this idea that we are all connected — that we are, in essence, one.

And whether you take that literally or just sit with it as a perspective, you start to see it everywhere.

I like to think of it like the ocean. One massive body of water, made up of a bazillion individual drops, each doing their own thing, having their own little experience. And yet, it’s all still one ocean. When you throw a stone into it, the ripple doesn’t politely stop after a few inches. It moves. It spreads. It touches everything.

That’s us.

We do the same thing to each other all day, every day.

You walk into a room where someone is in a foul mood, and suddenly the whole vibe shifts. Nobody had to say anything. You just feel it. Shoulders tighten, conversations change, energy drops a few notches. And then there’s that other person — the one who walks in light, open, grounded — and somehow the whole room softens. People breathe a little easier.

We are constantly affecting one another, whether we mean to or not.

And here’s where things get interesting.

Different people affect us differently. They bring out different emotions, different reactions, different versions of us. And that doesn’t make you wrong or judgmental — it simply means you’re paying attention.

Love and hate are both powerful emotional states. They carry weight. They carry energy. And based on principles like the Law of Vibration and the Law of Attraction, what we hold onto internally tends to invite more of the same.

So yes, I choose love.

But let me be very clear — I’m not naïve.

Not everyone means me well. Not everyone is aligned. Not everyone carries energy that feels safe, grounded, or even remotely peaceful. Some people set off alarm bells that sound like a full-blown fire drill. Others… it’s just a quiet little ding. Easy to ignore if you’re not paying attention.

But those signals matter.

What I’ve learned is that you can love someone and still recognize that they’re not your people.

And that’s not cold. That’s not unkind. That’s not you being “too much.”

That’s you being aware.

Because here’s where we tend to get ourselves in trouble: we confuse love with access.

We think that being loving means being available, accommodating, and open to everyone, all the time. And what happens then? We start abandoning ourselves in the name of being a “good person.”

And that’s not love. That’s exhaustion with a halo.

There are principles at play here — call them universal laws, call them lived truth — but they all point back to something simple: we reap what we sow.

What you put out… you experience more of.

So the real question becomes: what do you actually want more of in your life?

Because if the answer is anything that feels good, grounded, and supportive, then love is your better starting point.

That’s not a contradiction.

That’s wisdom.

And maybe, just maybe, if more of us allowed for that space in between — not jumping straight to love or hate — we’d experience a little less division and a little more understanding.

Because in the end, if you had a choice (and you do), wouldn’t you rather receive more of what feels good?

That doesn’t come from hate.

It comes from love.

If something in here made you pause — even just a little — that’s your awareness tapping you on the shoulder.

There’s a way to live with an open heart and strong boundaries without losing yourself in the process.