What Is Love?

“Love is not only something you feel, but it is something you do.”

-David Wilkerson

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today, instead of politics, chaos, or the latest absurdity in the world, I want to talk about something that actually keeps us human: love.

Love is one of those words we throw around so casually that we forget how heavy it really is. It’s not just a feeling. It’s not just butterflies, or chemistry, or the way someone’s name lights up your phone. Love is a living thing and something that grows, shifts, bruises, heals, and transforms us whether we’re ready or not.

Real love isn’t possession. It isn’t control. It isn’t “you complete me,” because you should already be whole. Love is choosing someone again and again, not because you need them to fill a void, but because life feels richer with them in it. And let’s be clear: domestic violence is not love. It’s a cruel form of control, and it has no place in any relationship.

Love is honesty, even when it’s uncomfortable. It’s saying, “I’m hurt,” “I’m scared,” “I need you,” or “I’m sorry.” It’s vulnerability without the guarantee of being understood. It’s trusting someone with the parts of you that you usually keep locked away. What love is not is weaponizing someone’s insecurities against them.

If you have to shrink yourself to be loved, that’s not love. If you’re walking on eggshells, that’s not love. If you’re constantly trying to earn affection, approval, or basic respect, that’s not love. Love is the exhale after holding your breath too long. It’s the feeling of being seen without performing.

Love isn’t effortless. It’s effort that doesn’t feel like a burden. It’s the small things like remembering how they take their coffee, sending a text to check in, listening even when you’re tired, showing up when it matters. Love is maintenance, not magic.

The right love doesn’t keep you stagnant. It doesn’t clip your wings. It doesn’t fear your evolution. Love says, “Grow. Become. Expand. I’ll grow with you.” And sometimes love also says, “We’ve grown in different directions, and that’s okay.”

Some of the deepest love comes from friendships, family, pets, or even the relationship you build with yourself. Romantic love gets all the attention, but it’s not the only kind that saves us. Sometimes the most healing love is the one that teaches you how to treat yourself better.

Love is imperfect, and that’s what makes it real. It’s messy. It’s flawed. It’s human. It’s two people trying their best with the tools they have. It’s learning, unlearning, apologizing, forgiving, and trying again. It’s imperfect that people choosing to care anyway.

Love shows you who you are. It reflects your wounds, your strengths, your fears, your capacity for joy. The right love doesn’t fix you, but it inspires you to fix yourself. It challenges you to become the version of you that you’ve always been capable of being.

Love is many things, but above all, it’s this: Love is the courage to stay open in a world that constantly tries to harden you.

Affirmation: I am worthy of a love that feels like peace, not survival.

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#Thispuzzledlife

A Life, A Name, A Nation’s Failure: Renee Nicole Good

“Some stories break you. Some stories change you. And some stories demand you stand up, speak up, and refuse to look away. Renee Nicole Good deserved to grow old.”

— Dana, This Puzzled Life

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today’s story is heavy, holy, and heartbreaking. And it deserves to be told without flinching.

There are moments when the world tilts. Moments when a headline hits you in the chest because you know this isn’t just news. This is someone’s daughter. Someone’s mother. Someone who laughed, cried, loved, lived, and deserved to grow old.

And this time, her name was Renee Nicole Good. She was a 37‑year‑old mother of three who was shot and killed by an ICE agent in Minneapolis on January 7, 2026, as reported by CBS News and NBC News. She was unarmed. She was shot three times including once in the head. And it was the wound that killed her according to the Hennepin County Medical Examiner’s report, cited by MPR News.

I didn’t know Renee personally. But I know the shape of injustice. I know the sound of a system cracking under its own weight. I know what it feels like to be trapped in a place where the people with power insist they’re “keeping you safe” while your body tells you otherwise.

When I read about Renee and about how the fatal shot was to her head. And about how the agent claimed “self‑defense,” about how the body‑camera footage released by ICE shows her backing away when the shots were fired. I felt that familiar ache. The one that says, This should not have happened. The one that says, This keeps happening. The one that says, How many more?

The world saw the moment she died. Millions watched the video, replayed it, argued about it. But Renee was more than the last seconds of her life. She was a whole human being. She was a mother. A woman trying to survive. Someone who deserved to be seen in her fullness. And not just her final frame. Another woman gone. Another family shattered. Another official statement claiming “self‑defense,” as reported by The Associated Press. Another community calling bullshit.

I’ve spent enough time in psychiatric, legal, and medical systems to know how quickly institutions protect themselves. How fast the narrative shifts. How easily a person becomes a problem instead of a person. But Renee wasn’t a problem. She was a life.

When I say her name, Renee Nicole Good, I feel the heaviness of it. The way a name becomes a headline. The way a headline becomes a debate. And the way a debate becomes noise. But behind that noise is a family who will never be the same. Children who will grow up with a before and after. A community that will remember the day everything changed.

And I think about how often marginalized people are told to “comply,” “calm down,” “cooperate,” “not escalate,” “not resist,” “not move,” “not breathe wrong.” And still they die. Grief like this doesn’t fade when the headlines do. It lingers. It haunts. It becomes part of the landscape of a community. And it should. Forgetting is how injustice survives.

Renee deserves better than to be forgotten. She deserves better than to be reduced to a political talking point. She deserves better than to be a momentary outrage. She deserves to be remembered as a woman whose life mattered.

When I read that her death was ruled a homicide, even if the system refuses to call it a crime, I felt that familiar sting. The one that says, We see what happened. We just refuse to name it. And when I read that she was unarmed. And that she posed no threat, and that the fatal shot was to her head, I felt the anger rise. Not the wild, chaotic anger. The quiet kind. The kind that sits in your chest like a stone. The kind that says, This is not justice. This is not safety. This is not okay.

I don’t have a neat ending for this. There isn’t one. But I can say this, Renee, your life mattered. Your story matters. Your name will not be swallowed by the noise. To her family, I am holding you in the softest part of my heart. To her children, I hope the world becomes gentler for you than it was for your mother. To her community, keep speaking, keep fighting, keep remembering. And to anyone reading this who feels the weight of it, you’re not imagining it. You’re not overreacting. You’re not alone.

Some stories demand to be told. Some losses demand to be honored. Some names demand to be spoken. Renee Nicole Good. We see you. We remember you. We will not look away. Thanks for reading! And from the bottom of my heart I say, “Fuck ICE!”

Affirmation: I honor Renee by telling the truth, holding the grief, and refusing to let her name fade.

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#ThisPuzzledLife