I’ve been told (more than once) that I overuse the word love.

I’ve been told that I say, “I love you” too easily, too often, and to too many people. My first thought was that there are probably much worse words to overuse. I could be using “hate” too often. I could be swearing too much. I could, like, you know, be overusing the word “like” or ummm, something like that.

I saw an episode of How I Met Your Mother where one character accused the other of being an “’I love you’ slut” and making it meaningless by saying “I love you” too easily. The end result was that the accuser finally stopped being an “I love you prude” once she relaxed enough to say it. Silly, but it makes for an interesting point.

So, I took it under advisement. I started noticing when I used it. I do say it often. I often sign off in email that way unless it’s business related. I started to pause before I said or wrote it, to check if I really meant it. I took a look at my TwitBooking and the number of times I used it there. Guilty as charged: I love recklessly.

I don’t like your status, I looooooove it! If you just did something that helped me in even the tiniest way, you will probably get an “I love you” and “xoxoxo” (and real hugs and kisses if you are within reach). I love splashing in puddles with my son. I love rolling in the leaves with my daughter. I love snuggling my family…the two legged ones and the four legged ones. I love my French press. I love foggy days. And sunny ones. And thunderstorms. And catching snowflakes on my tongue. I love a good debate. I love getting lost in a book. I love yoga. I love this song! I love running in the woods. I love Cherry Garcia frozen yogurt. I love being barefoot. I love Walt Whitman. I love freckles. And freshly squeezed lemonade. And cowboys. And kale. And long, hot baths. And deep belly laughs that take my breath away. And elephants. And sheep. And the scary feeling you get when you sneeze while driving. And and and ohhh-emm-gee I love this song! My tweets, and statuses, and comments seem to be a veritable love-fest!

Love slut, indeed.

And I get it. Some people feel like love is this fragile thing that you put away in the tiny tower of your heart and only bring it out for special occasions. You only give it when there’s someone or thing that is magical and deserving of it. You take out that tiny teaspoon and dole out meager portions of love so that your heart doesn’t end up empty. You fold it back closed afterward so you don’t accidentally leak any. You don’t want to run out. It might be scary. You might get laughed at. Enthusiasm isn’t as cool as sitting back in your cynical chair, bored at everything, sneering at the world, keeping your love carefully packed away. You might not get loved back. You don’t want to be hurt.

It isn’t that the words mean less to me. It isn’t that I have more love to give than other people. It isn’t that I’ve always received as much love as I’ve given, or that I never get hurt. It isn’t that I’m fearless. It’s just that I figured out the secret.

The secret is this: every living being on this planet is lovable. We are all magical and deserving of love. And if you can’t figure out why, or if you can’t see the good in someone, all the more reason they need to be loved. The secret is that if we all keep our hearts a little bit broken, all the love pours out to wherever it’s needed.

It’s needed everywhere.

So will I stop being so slutty and loving everyone and everything all the time? Probably not. There are many people still just doling out the meager portions of their love and enthusiasm, and I don’t mind giving a little extra. I will take the time to make sure it’s truly received, and not just end up as a white noise of platitudes. You gotta say it like you mean it.

My daughter was heading out to play the other day and said, “Love you, mom!” and I tossed out an offhand “Love you” back. And then I stopped. I chased out the door after her, scooped her up in my arms and said, “You know it’s not just words, right? I love you all the way down to your toes.” And she smiled. And nodded. And wiggled away to head back to her digging in the woods.

If you are reading this and feel like your love is something you have to protect and save for just the right moment, you’ve found your moment. It’s right now. And if you are reading this, and you look inward and don’t feel loved, or don’t feel lovable:

From me to you, I love you all the way down to your toes.