As a quasi-joke, I’ve often said that people who don’t love me tend to like me, while those few who claim to love me don’t seem to like me very much. Sometimes I wonder whether the people who claim they love me are simply obeying a habit. It is possible that watching a person grow up or spending years with a partner can produce a habitual bond that can be mistaken for love. How do we know that we truly love something or someone? How do we know that the comfort and joy we draw from a person or activity isn’t habitual satisfaction? 

The difficulty in discerning love from habit lies in the intrinsic relationship between the two. Specifically, when you love something or someone, you tend to give a lot of yourself to that activity or person. At some point, it may be natural for love to evaporate along with the initial infatuation, leaving behind a naked, stale habit. To examine these behavioral patterns, one must not picture a linear scale with love at one end and habit at the other. Simply put, the two are not mutually exclusive. It is quite possible to love an activity that is habitual in nature. Despite these hurdles, it is still possible to distinguish between love and habit, and the litmus test is passion. 

Obviously, when gauging your feelings toward a person or activity, no one can expect to uncover passion every single moment. Let’s face it—at the end of a long workday, when the kids are finally asleep and the house is reset for the next morning, a person who seeks passion may end up in a psychiatric ward. However, if the highs experienced hitting a golf shot, writing new code, racing a car, or laughing with a partner bring not only satisfaction, but also happiness, then there is passion, and there is love.