I'm Afraid of Love

My terrifying early morning realization.

June 23rd / 2:01 P.M. / Lafayette, Louisiana

I relate too much to Danika Brown.

On the highway to Lafayette, I typed out some of the books I wanted to look for at Beausoleil Books. Sister Outsider by Audre Lorde. In the Dream House by Carmen Machado. Thick by Tessie McMillan. I shut off my phone and threw it into my tote bag.

Putting back on my sunglasse and adjusting the passenger seat air conditioner, I crack back open my copy of Take A Hint, Dani Brown by Talia Hibbert. This is either my fifth or sixth time completely rereading this book.

The story follows a workaholic and bookworm named Danika — Dani — Brown who fake-dates (and ultimately falls in love with) Zafir Ansari after a video of them goes viral.

Here’s where I become a little mortified by how much I relate to Dani: she’s afraid — no, terrified — of falling in love. After a few rendezvous with it, she’s disinterested and unappeased by it.

Last night, I had an elaborate dream about me (that I won’t go into details about). And I woke in terrible pain because I slept in an awkward position causing tension on my neck, shoulders, and upper back and with a startling realization: I am just as afraid of falling in love as I am of dying.

This awkward and embarrassing realization caused me to stare baffled at my life-sized Coca Cola teddy bear, Ben. Then, I just puzzled over every event that led up to this moment that could’ve contributed to such fear.

By the time I decided to roll out of bed and start my day, it was 10:44am and I was craving a large mug of warm coffee.

I shrugged on my maroon turtleneck tank top, long jean skirt, worn converse, maroon and black sunglasses, and silver rings. French pressed some coffee and ate breakfast, trying to think of some characters I’ve read about that are scared of love. Specifically, women whom read, research, and are stable in multiple ways.

Oddly enough, this train of thought led me to Danika Brown — the main character of a book I reread multiple times a year and have related to for reasons I couldn’t put a finger on until now.

“Romance clearly melted the brains of sensible women. Dani was horribly glad she had nothing to do with it.” (Take A Hint, Dani Brown, pg. 51)

Dani is a bookworm and English professor that is getting a PhD and studying the Evolution of Misogynoir Post-Chattel Slavery. She’s sweet beneath all of her grumpy exterior but she doesn’t need a partner because she’s stable enough to support herself mentally, physically, and financially. Dani loves her family, her sisters the most. She goes on a journey to understand that love doesn’t have to burn her. I relate to Dani.

To unpack this fear a little, I will say this: similarly to death, people say love is unexpected, can be dangerous, and will change your life. But most of my apprehension surrounding love stems from love not doing anything.

Love doesn’t pay the bills, love isn’t a guaranteed partnership, love sometimes doesn’t last forever, love doesn’t automatically mean security. Love is quite simply, not enough.

But I’d be lying if I say that I don’t long to slow dance around the kitchen to Lionel Richie, scream Kendrick Lamar lyrics on long road trips, experience the ups and downs of a romance, playing Spades with family members, and experience love being a beautiful thing.

Nothing is more embarrassing than being a hopeless romantic afraid of love.

Yulani.

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