Have you ever met someone and instantly felt at ease, as if their energy somehow matched your wavelength? You may not talk to them often, but when you do, you pick up right where you left off—effortless, honest and real.
For me, that person is Prema. A cousin of a friend I met over a decade ago, Prema is—quite fittingly—a prem ki murti in my eyes. We somehow skipped the small talk stage and dove straight into deep waters of life, purpose, emotions, and on one particular day—Ayn Rand.
Our conversation that evening began with Carl Jung and spiraled beautifully into Rand’s bold, structured take on love, sex, and marriage. With her characteristic calm, Prema summarized Rand’s philosophy in her own words
Pride for self—for who and what you are.
Admiration for the other—for the sum total of who they are.
When this is mutual—that is love.
Sex is a celebration of that love—
A selfish, rational pursuit.
Love or marriage should be where
Independence is equal,
Dependence is mutual,
And obligation is reciprocal.
Those words lingered with me. At first, I parked them in the backseat of my mind—there were a hundred things on my plate. But when Prema gently reminded me to share my thoughts the next day, I paused, sat in my porch, and truly thought about it.
When my ideals met my experience
Love. Sex. Marriage.
Three words that once felt like fairy tales to a younger me. Back then, I was Alice in a wonderland of idealism—enchanted by the idea of forever love. But life has a way of turning your fairytales into philosophy. As I met people, saw relationships unfold and fall apart, counselled broken hearts and confused minds—I realized: these words aren’t synonyms. They are different journeys, sometimes crossing paths, often not.
And yet, somewhere in that chaos, Rand’s framework struck a chord. Not because I agreed entirely—but because it invited me to define my own truth.
Self-Esteem: Its been a 'Quiet Rebellion' for me!
In my early twenties, I believed love meant blending in—being agreeable, pleasing, adjusting. But here’s what I know now: you can’t pour from an empty cup. Real love begins with self-worth.
It wasn’t a loud revolution. It was a quiet rebellion. I stopped asking, “Am I enough for someone?” and started asking, “Am I enough for me?”
That simple shift changed everything. It redefined how I connected, how I gave, and more importantly—how I protected my own peace.
Love as Action, Not Emotion!
My definition is - Seeing is believing.
I once had a friend—he felt more than I did. Life took us in different directions. Years passed. And one afternoon, we met for coffee. He walked me in, stepping to my right so I was safe on the footpath. He remembered my favorite milkshake. Ordered the snack I always loved.
Not because we are still close.
But because he once cared enough to remember.
That, to me, is love.
Not a dramatic gesture. Not a grand confession.
But a lingering action that outlives emotion.
Love doesn’t always speak—it shows. Its a more a verb for me than a state of amygdala!
Sex: Two People, Two Realities - Challenging, but that's the truth!
As a counsellor, I’ve seen how often relationships crumble over unspoken differences—and one of the most misunderstood areas is sex.
She once told me she felt used.
He, on the other hand, felt he was expressing love.
Neither was wrong. They were just speaking different emotional languages.
For a woman, sex often comes with layers—emotion, safety, vulnerability, trust.
For a man, it may begin with biology, but that doesn’t mean it lacks depth.
The issue isn't the difference which isnt a flaw, its a fact!
The issue is the silence about the difference.
Modern relationships falter here—not because we feel differently, but because we assume the other shouldn’t. The bridge between bodies is not physical. It’s emotional intelligence.
Marriage: The Everyday Choice
I’ve watched my parents—their little fights, their big let-gos. Quiet disagreements. Loud laughter. Annoyances that lasted minutes, loyalty that lasted decades.
Marriage, as I’ve seen, isn’t about gazing into each other’s eyes to forget the world. It’s about standing shoulder to shoulder and saying, “Let’s face the world together.”
Not a contract. Not a duty. Not perpetual
To me, marriage is this:
A daily recommitment to say,
“You’re my choice. I stand by it.”
Today. Tomorrow. Again. And again.
Where's the meeting point then?
Ayn Rand gave me a structure. Prema gave it a soul.
Life gave me the in-betweens—those grey spaces where real love resides.
So here’s what I’ve come to believe:
Love isn’t just admiration.
It’s understanding. It’s showing up.
It’s needing each other without losing yourself.
It’s a presence you choose—daily.
Rand called it rational admiration.
I call it practice, presence, and choice.
And marriage?
It’s not a fairytale.
It’s a legacy of small, consistent choices that say—
“You’re still the one. I still choose you.”
