Oh, Love

“Being in Love removes the resistance to connection.”
-Dr. Rowshanak Hashemiyoon

Love in the world of 2.0 is spelled with a capital L.

I was at an event last week— this brilliant woman, Dr. Rowshanak Hashemiyoon, spoke about Love. I was mesmerized. I wanted to hold her face.

I told her that without all the fear, the stories, the shame, and the meaning we assign to things, we’d all be holding one another’s faces.

She said, “Little kids do it.”

Later, when I was sitting next to her in this beautiful purple room overlooking much of the city, we shared deeply with each other stories of awakening. I felt the urge to put my arm around her, feel her, touch her… and I didn’t.

It was a restraint to not do it, and I didn’t because of the stories.

The stories like “she might think I’m gay” or “she might not understand.” Yet, everything we said out loud pointed to the idea that we knew a deeper, more transformative, more integral, unconditional force of the only thing we could describe as “God.”

Yet, in my human, I didn’t want to come up against the story.

The window of the purple room, 2/5/26

Recently in my life, I’ve noticed how much I still fight Love.

I’m spelling Love with a capital L because that’s how she spelled it. That’s how 2.0 spells it.

Love is the unconditional force that is the base of everything we are. When we’re in Love, we are ultimate creativity. We are our Godly essence. We are integrated, whole, and powerful.

I learned unconditional love not from a person, but from a methodical movement, a moment in my first-ever race.

To be one with Love is to approach your life and relationships as whole instead of fractured. You know in every bit of your being that you are integrated, expressive, and lacking nothing. You have no gaps. You have no inadequacies.

Nothing is here to fill you. You are full. Divine. It’s spillover.

I wrote a somewhat intense piece last September about being “Shamed For Loving,” which was a heavy emotional lift after my working relationship with Townsend came to an end.

I was on a cold beach in Delaware with my family, and my mother told me that I was “obsessed” with Townsend.

Townsend and I never had a romantic or sexual relationship— just deep recognition and respect. That’s when I put together that for my entire life, I’ve had a powerful way of loving and collaborating with men, and I had so many experiences of people trying to dim or shame that. I found it insulting, even upsetting, that such deep reverence was created as a childish obsession.

I wrote Shamed for Loving as a way to finally reconcile this recurring bit of density.

The core thesis was that love, especially non-romantic, non-possessive, and feminine love, is a primary creative and spiritual life force that society pathologizes and shames in order to control it. Uncontained love is not a flaw or obsession—it is essential to consciousness and creation.

I’m writing this essay because of the moment in the purple room— but also because of all the “purple rooms” I’ve been in.

I’m writing it because I noticed last week that I had still been fighting Love.

Rowshanak said, “Love is not a feeling we wait for. Love is a state we enter and practice.”

I had been refusing to enter the state, both consciously and not, because of moments like the one in the purple room. I had been saying I understood Loving fully in all my power, and then adding subtle subtext that said “except when… except when…”

I’m not fighting it anymore.

The Density is loaded with “except when…”

Humans 2.0 shed that. The knowing of who we are bypasses the story.

Loving is so intensely beautiful, and being in the state of Love, the state of divinity, is all we are asked to be on this wonderful trip.

We could all stop fighting.

Stay beautiful.