People like to believe that love is logical.

That it follows rules. That it makes sense. That the people we choose to love are carefully selected after weighing compatibility, values, and long-term potential.

But the truth is…….love rarely works that way, highlight the rare!

Love is impulsive. Emotional and even irrational.

And sometimes, when you are deep inside it, you stop seeing things clearly.

You become colourblind.

Not in the way people often mean it when they talk about race or culture, but in a much more personal way. In love, colour blindness means that the warning signs, the differences, the little things that should make you pause……they all start to blur together.

Red flags stop looking red.

They start looking green.

I think many of us have experienced this at some point in our lives.

We meet someone who makes our heart feel lighter, someone who understands parts of us that other people overlook. Where conversations flow, the laughter feels natural, and suddenly life feels a little less lonely.

When you find that kind of connection, it's easy to believe that everything else will work itself out.

Even when there are clear differences.

Different backgrounds.

Different expectations.

Different ways of seeing the world.

When love begins, those differences often feel small. Manageable. Sometimes even exciting. They add a kind of mystery to the relationship, a feeling that you are discovering someone from a completely different world.

And for a while, that feeling can be beautiful.

You start building a small universe between the two of you.

A world made up of inside jokes, late-night conversations, shared dreams, and promises about a future that seems just within reach.

Inside that world, everything feels possible.

But the outside world doesn't disappear.

Reality has a way of slowly pushing its way back in.

Responsibilities appear. Expectations from families, cultures, or belief systems start to matter again. The differences that once felt romantic suddenly feel complicated.

And sometimes, when the emotions settle and the excitement fades a little, you start noticing the things you once ignored.

The red flags you painted green.

Maybe it was the way you avoided certain conversations because you were afraid of the answers.

Maybe it was the feeling that one of you was always compromising more than the other.

Or maybe it was simply the quiet realization that love, no matter how real it feels, does not automatically solve everything.

When we are in love, we don't always see people as they are.

We see them as who we hope they will be.

We imagine the future versions of ourselves together, the growth that will happen, the problems that will somehow resolve themselves because the feeling between us is strong enough.

Love makes us optimistic.

But it also makes us blind.

Not intentionally. Not foolishly.

Just human.

There is a strange innocence in loving someone this way. In choosing to believe in the best version of a relationship even when the evidence suggests it might be more complicated.

Maybe that's why heartbreak can feel so disorienting.

When love ends, it is not only the person you lose.

It is also the version of the future you imagined with them.

The trips you thought you would take together.

The quiet evenings you thought you would share.

The life that seemed so clear when you were looking at it through the lens of love.

And when that vision disappears, you are left standing in the reality that you once tried not to see.

The colours return.

The red flags become red again.

The differences become clearer.

And sometimes you wonder how you missed them before.

But maybe the better question is not how you missed them.

Maybe the real question is why we all do it?

Because the truth is, almost everyone becomes colourblind in love at some point.

We ignore the signs because the feeling of connection is powerful. Because the idea of building a life with someone is comforting. Because believing in love can feel safer than questioning it.

And perhaps that is not entirely a mistake.

Maybe that kind of colour blindness is part of what makes love meaningful.

To love someone is to take a risk. To believe in something uncertain. To step into a future that has no guarantees.

Sometimes it works.

Sometimes it doesn't.

But even when love ends, the experience changes you.

It teaches you what you value.

It teaches you what you deserve.

And slowly, as time passes, you begin to see more clearly again.

Not with the blindness of hope alone.

But with the wisdom that comes from having loved, lost, and learned.

And maybe the next time love finds you, you will still be colourblind in some ways.

Just not quite as blind as before.