Love Radically or Lose Tragically.

Lately, I’ve been posting screenshots of the messages I get from men online. At first, it was a way to vent—to share the ridiculousness of these exchanges, the entitlement, the lack of effort. But over time, it stopped feeling funny. Instead, it started feeling like I was documenting something bigger than just awkward attempts at connection. These messages, with all their insensitivity and detachment, felt like a symptom of a much larger problem—a society that seems to have forgotten how to truly love.

Then, one evening, I came across a post that hit me harder than I expected. It wasn’t directed at me—though for a moment, I thought it might be. It read: “Is the dating pool really that bad, or are you just attracting the wrong people?” At first, it felt like a slap. Was this post implying that my struggles, and those of so many others, weren’t real? That if I wasn’t finding love, it was my fault? I read it again, and the words started to sting even more. The underlying message seemed to be that people who struggle in the dating world are broken, that they are somehow responsible for their own lack of love, that if they were just better—better looking, better behaved, better something—they would find connection.

But here’s what’s really messed up: this isn’t just about dating or one person’s misguided take. It’s about the way we, as a society, have framed love and worth. We’ve turned connection into something transactional, something to be earned or won. We’ve created a world where people feel unloved not because they aren’t worthy of love, but because we’ve made love feel like a prize reserved for the lucky or the perfect. And in doing so, we’ve built a culture where so many people go through life feeling broken—not because they are, but because the systems around them keep telling them they should be.

This isn’t just a dating problem. It’s a societal failure. We’ve commodified connection, reduced it to something you swipe for on an app or earn through self-improvement. We’ve prioritized individual achievement over collective care, creating a world where loneliness feels inevitable. And worst of all, we’ve taught people to blame themselves for the ways they struggle to connect, rather than questioning the culture that makes connection so hard in the first place.

As 2025 approaches, I’ve decided that I’m done with this narrative. I’m done letting myself or anyone else believe that love is something you have to earn. I’m done blaming individuals for the state of the dating pool when the real problem is the society that surrounds it. Instead, I’m choosing to love radically.

Loving radically means rejecting the scarcity mindset that has poisoned our understanding of love. It means recognizing that love isn’t a finite resource, something to be hoarded or competed for. Love is abundant—it multiplies when shared. The more we pour love into our communities, the more it flows back to us. This isn’t just an idealistic sentiment; it’s a necessity. If we don’t learn to love radically, we will lose tragically—ourselves, each other, and the very connections that make life meaningful.

Radical love starts with kindness. Not the surface-level niceties that keep things comfortable, but real, deliberate kindness. The kind that sees people as they are and says, “You are enough.” It’s in the small, everyday actions: holding space for someone who’s struggling, offering a genuine compliment, showing patience in moments of frustration. Kindness builds trust, and trust is the foundation of every meaningful connection.

But loving radically also means rejecting the systems that devalue connection. It means pushing back against a culture that tells us our worth is tied to our productivity, our appearance, or our ability to find a partner. It means celebrating love in all its forms—not just romantic love, but friendship, family, and the quiet love we give ourselves.

Imagine what it would look like if we truly valued connection. If we stopped competing for love and started creating spaces where it could grow naturally. If we saw relationships not as achievements but as acts of mutual care. If we built a world where people didn’t feel like they had to fix themselves to be worthy of love, but where they were loved simply because they exist.

This isn’t just a dream—it’s a choice we can make, starting now. In 2025, I want to stop blaming individuals for the murkiness of the dating pool and start asking how we, as a society, can make it clearer. That means investing in community, prioritizing kindness, and rejecting the scarcity mindset that keeps us disconnected.

Loving radically also means loving ourselves. It means letting go of the idea that we’re incomplete or unworthy if we’re single. It means valuing the love we already have in our lives—the friendships, the family bonds, the moments of self-compassion. It means recognizing that love isn’t something to be found; it’s something to be practiced, every day, in every interaction.

Of course, this isn’t easy. The systems that perpetuate loneliness and disconnection are powerful, and the cultural narratives that tie our worth to our relationship status run deep. But change doesn’t happen all at once. It happens in the small choices we make every day—to be kind when we don’t have to be, to reach out when it feels safer to stay silent, to see the humanity in people even when it’s hard.

When I think about the dating pool, I realize it’s not just a reflection of individual behavior. It’s a reflection of the systems we’ve created, the values we’ve prioritized, and the ways we’ve failed to care for each other. If it feels murky, it’s because we’ve poured our fears, insecurities, and disconnection into it. But the good news is, we can clean it up.

We can choose to love radically—to create a world where connection isn’t a competition but a birthright. A world where people are valued not for what they can offer, but for who they are. A world where love is abundant, where it flows freely, where it’s not something we chase but something we share.

This isn’t about fixing ourselves to fit into a broken system. It’s about fixing the system so that everyone feels worthy of love. It’s about recognizing that the clearer we make the water, the easier it will be to see each other for who we really are—not pennies waiting to be turned into dollars, but people who deserve love simply because we exist.

So here’s my resolution for 2025: to love radically. To be kinder, more patient, and more intentional. To reject scarcity and embrace abundance. To see worth in everyone, including myself. Because at the end of the day, love isn’t just about what we get—it’s about what we give.

Here’s to loving each other better. Here’s to making the water clear again. Here’s to choosing love, not just as a feeling, but as an action, every single day.