When we were 14, “I love you” was practically mandatory. You’d exchange a few texts, hang out at the mall, hold hands, and then, before the month was up, someone would drop the three words. I love you. Boom. Official. Now you’re a couple. Congratulations, your Facebook status can now say “in a relationship.” It was reckless, dramatic, naive… and also kind of beautiful.

Fast forward a decade and saying I love you too soon is more taboo than ghosting someone mid-text thread. In fact, saying it at all; even after months of emotional intimacy, late-night conversations, and exclusive sleepovers, feels like you’re pulling a pin on a grenade.

We used to be fearless with love. Now we treat “I love you” like it’s a confession of a crime.

How did we get here?

Somewhere between adolescence and adulting, love became a strategy instead of a feeling. Now we’re told to wait, to play it cool, to act unbothered. We read texts like tarot cards.

“Goodnight x” – is the ‘x’ a kiss or just a filler?

“He said he cares about me” – does that mean love or… like-like?

We overanalyze, over-wait, and overthink the thing that used to come out of our mouths like breathing. We used to say “I love you” because we felt it. Now we only say it when we’re sure it’s safe, or worse, when we know it won’t change anything.

And let’s be honest: as women, saying “I love you” first is like emotional Russian roulette. One wrong move and you’re “too intense,” “too emotional,” or the dreaded “too much.” You say “I love you” too soon, and suddenly he’s out the door with a half-assed excuse and a confused look like why would you say that? As if love isn’t the entire point of this whole damn thing.

But the real question is; are we actually afraid to say it?

Or are we just afraid it won’t be said back?

Because love is brave. Vulnerable. Messy. And in a world obsessed with curated perfection, algorithms, and detachment as a personality trait, love might just be the last raw, uncool thing left. Which makes it even more sacred.

So maybe, just maybe, saying I love you isn’t the problem.

Maybe being seen is.

And maybe we’re all still those 14-year-old kids; fumbling, scared, hopeful… Waiting for someone to say it first.