I joined a hiking club earlier this year, and have recently been asked to scout hikes. To check how safe they are, if they are suitable for large groups, dogs, QA shit. I usually hike with groups or with friends, so this was my first hike on my own in a while. 0.2 miles into a 3 mile hike I became worried. 700 feet of incline didn’t seem too bad when I saw the overview, but I didn’t realize it was all at the beginning of the hike.

My calves were burning, I was gasping for air, and I had questions I had never asked while hiking. There were Actual practical questions to be asked: did I sleep well the night before, did I eat breakfast, how good of condition was my body in, but today we had fun new questions. Do I actually hate hiking? Is it not the hike that I enjoy and just the company of my friends? Am I actually just lonely? Is this not a thing that I should be doing with my life? Doubts filled my mind in a way I had never experienced before.

Exhausted, and only half way through I found a shady spot to collapse and reassess my life for a bit. I ate my snackies, took a sippy of water, and caught my breath. I took some time to recover, and gave myself some time to think; about the hike and myself. I’ve become so comfortable with being uncomfortable. With pushing myself until I can’t anymore. It is Important to take breaks, to let your body rest, recover, I am not a machine. I often don’t know when to slow down and stop when I have no one to check with.

Elevation is difficult, elevating yourself more so, and it often won’t feel good. You will question your ability, your strength, the choices that have led you here, and it can be difficult to see the summit. The second half of the hike was beautiful, and so much easier and relaxing than the first. And the view from the top was incredible. The breeze on the way back breathed life back into me and reminded me why I decided to be out here. I probably don’t hate hiking, or at least the second half. We just have to respect our limits.

It started as a day like any other, and then she showed up at my door. A friend I met only a couple of weeks ago. Tall, smart, funny: an all around cool girl. She said “I love you,” and time stopped. Creeping fear surrounded me, chilling me to my core. Suddenly, I was pulled back from myself to look at the crime scene that was our friendship, to see what went wrong. Was it something I said or did? Was it the memes we shared? Something had changed to cause this, and I had to get to the bottom of this mystery.

Motive: It is around valentine’s day and people can feel particularly lonely around that time of year, and my friend has told me they have been feeling isolated and alone. Means: We are both single, I didn’t think either of us is looking for a relationship, or so I thought. Opportunity: Shared interests, talking more often recently and just generally good vibes. Verdict: inconclusive. More information required to figure out what happened.

With only one lead, I confronted the person who reported the crime, my friend. All I could think to say to start my interrogation was “Nice… as a friend right?” She laughed and responded saying “Of course. You have a comforting presence, you’re honest and you make me feel heard and seen, and I love that.” And the case was solved. Oh, right. There was no crime to be solved in the first place. I’m trying to fix a problem that doesn’t exist again. I’ve always tried to be there for my friends when they need me, to hear them out, make them feel comfortable and safe, which I consider an act of love. I love that about myself, but it is not often received or reciprocated as love. People have different definitions of what love is, or feels like, so sharing love can be difficult. Turns out when you make space for people to feel vulnerable, safe, understood, and “Loved”, a response could be appreciation through love. Mystery solved.

The reason I was so confused and scared was my inexperience with verbal platonic love. Love isn’t always a transformative word, one used to describe feelings moving forward. It can be a statement of the present, of who you are currently. Being seen and understood, and told that I am loved for who I am are things that I am out of practice and uncomfortable with. I really only hear it from my family, which can feel like an obligation. Most men only hear “I love you” from their partners romantically, and almost never platonically.

I’ve been in a place recently in my life where I’m meeting and spending time with new people who have similar interests and beliefs to myself, and they have similar definitions to love that I do. Being vulnerable, honest and open to new experiences has changed my life rapidly and adjusting and adapting to it has been a journey, and honestly a little scary at times. I’m working on being more comfortable with being loved and accepting love, and I love that for me.