What is Love Anyway? (And Why Do I Write About It?)

They say love makes the world go round, though I’m pretty sure that’s just physics. Yet, the mystery of love has inspired poets, ruined diets, and led at least one person to drunkenly text their ex at 2 a.m. Love—it’s complicated, messy, exhilarating, and, dare I say, untranslatable. But here I am, trying to put words to it, turning this eternal force into practical advice. Why? Because love matters. It is a topic that touches everyone, and if you’re anything like me, you’ve been spectacularly clueless at times trying to navigate it.

I wasn’t born a philosopher of relationships. I grew up in a bustling family-owned taverna in Athens, where my chief responsibilities were balancing trays of saganaki and dodging unsolicited advice from my relatives about why I was still single. (If you’ve never been told by a great-aunt that “even Zeus would’ve lost interest by now,” consider yourself lucky.)

Yet, love was everywhere—woven into the conversations around the long Mediterranean tables, debated passionately over ouzo. What makes a good match? What makes a relationship last? My uncles quoted Aristotle, my aunts referenced tragic myths, and somewhere between Plato and a platter of souvlaki, my fascination with love stories emerged.

Love Is a Journey (A Greek Odyssey, but With Fewer Cyclops)

If there’s one belief that has steered my writing, it is this: love, much like a well-cooked moussaka, takes time, layers, and effort. Through the years, I’ve fallen for people who didn’t fit my life and people I didn’t fit for theirs. I’ve experienced connections that burned bright but fizzled fast—like trying to light a barbecue on a windy Santorini evening. I’ve also experienced love that grew slowly, blossoming in ways even the romantics in my family couldn’t have scripted.

All of this has taught me that love isn’t about instant gratification. It’s about showing up—a philosophy I owe to my years running a hotel on a tiny island. Guests would rave about our food, the sunsets, the hospitality. But the reality? It was hard work to make it seem effortless. Relationships are the same. If you’re not willing to sweep the floors (metaphorically or literally), the shine wears off.

So, let’s talk about what really matters, shall we?

Love Demands Vulnerability (and a Decent Sense of Humor)

Picture this: I once shared a meal with someone I was crazy about—a linguist who spoke five languages fluently. In my eagerness to impress her, I cited Sappho, the ancient Greek poetess, misquoting her by accident. Instead of being charmed, she corrected me, gently but with just enough authority to make me wish the gods would open the floor beneath me.

Vulnerability is terrifying—whether it’s misquoting Sappho or being the first to admit you’re falling for someone. But it’s also how we grow. The best love stories I’ve heard (or lived) didn’t start with flawless scripting. They arose from the cringe-worthy, messy moments—the time I spilled tzatziki on a date’s shirt or the time he admitted he couldn’t tell Thessaloniki from Mykonos on a map. Being real is more disarming than trying to be perfect.

Trust me, people don’t fall for walking graduation speeches. They fall for sparks of humanity—the quirks, the awkward pauses, the earnest attempts. Vulnerability isn’t a weakness; it’s your secret weapon. Use it.

Love Thrives on Curiosity—and Spontaneity

One of my firm beliefs about love is that it flourishes when we remain curious. Not just curious about your partner—what they love, hate, dream of—but curious about the world around you.

My experience working in hospitality taught me that life is more vibrant when there’s room for spontaneity. Whether it’s surprising your partner with freshly baked baklava (pro tip: always use extra honey) or booking a last-minute ferry ride to a nearby island, sprinkling a little unpredictability keeps love exciting. Because at its core, love is an adventure. And like any good adventure, it needs moments that make us hold our breath and exhale with joy.

But let’s not mistake spontaneity for grand gestures. It doesn’t have to be sweeping someone off their feet on horseback (although bonus points if you do). Often, it’s as simple as asking, “What’s one thing you’ve always wanted to try?” and then making it happen.

Love Isn’t a Myth—It’s a Practice

Growing up in Greece, surrounded by mythological tales of gods and mortals, I was told that love could be epic. Divine, even. And while that makes for captivating storytelling, in real life, I’ve learned that love is made not of heroic battles but of quiet, consistent practice.

It’s choosing every day to be present, even when work piles up or the Wi-Fi cuts out mid-Netflix binge. It’s finding the courage to say, “I’m sorry,” even when you’re technically right. (Harder than climbing Mount Olympus, I assure you.) And most importantly, it’s celebrating the small wins—the way your partner remembers you hate coriander or the effort they put into your first anniversary dinner. Love isn’t forged in grand moments; it’s strengthened in the day-to-day.

What I Stand For: Connection

At this point, you might be wondering: Dimitri, where are the actionable tips? The step-by-step guide to finding or deepening love? Here’s the truth: love doesn’t follow a formula. But what I do know is this—connection lies at the heart of everything.

Whether you’re locked in a heated debate over the best way to prepare eggplant or whispering secrets under a starry Athens sky, real love begins with connection. It’s about seeing and being seen. It’s about creating harmony even when your “melody” doesn’t perfectly align with someone else’s.

So, stay curious. Stay open. And don’t be afraid to make a bit of a fool of yourself chasing what matters. Because love, for all its headaches and heartaches, is worth every single stumble.

Final Thoughts: The Greek Chorus Speaks

If I could send you off with one thought, it would be this: love isn’t about finding someone to complete your kleftiko recipe or your playlist. It’s about someone who will dance with you—figuratively or literally—through the highs, lows, and everything in between. It’s about finding a partner who sees the mess, the beauty, and says, “Yes, I’m in.”

So go. Embrace the moments that take you beyond your comfort zone. Write your story, misquotations and all, and remember: even in the messiness, there’s magic.