Fluent in Love — A Reflection on Receiving What We Don’t Understand
- Lakya Garrison
- Nov 11
- 4 min read
💬 When Love Speaks a Foreign Dialect
I’ve been sitting with a theory that unsettled me. Some time ago I ran across an interview where a celebrity claimed that his change in sexual orientation was ordered by God. He also stated that he was "fluent in love." When the interview aired, in 2024, many people didn’t latch onto the metaphor of being “fluent in Love.” Instead, the moment that trended was the celebrity’s claim that God made him gay. That statement stirred controversy — and for me, it stirred examination.
Let me be clear: I completely disagree with that claim.
My faith teaches that God is intentional, holy, and sovereign. While I believe He allows us to make choices, I do not believe He creates us to live in contradiction to His design. To say God made him gay is, in my view, a misrepresentation of divine authorship. It’s not just a theological disagreement — it’s a distortion of purpose.
But here’s the nuance: I can disagree with that statement and still reflect on the emotional metaphor that followed. I can reject the spiritual claim while still examining the emotional literacy behind being “fluent in Love.” So, let's examine.
After years in a heterosexual entanglement the public figure shared that they are now in a same-sex relationship. When asked about the shift, they said, “I’m fluent in Love.” That phrase caught me off guard. That phrase lingered. Not because I agreed — but because it made me pause. It made me reflect. It made me examine my own fluency. And what I found was heartbreaking.
Fluency is the smooth, effortless, and efficient use of a skill, such as language. The specific definition varies by context but generally implies a high level of proficiency and ease of performance. The word's root is the Latin fluere, meaning "to flow".
💔 The Pattern I Couldn’t Ignore
That theory didn’t just challenge my theology — it made me reflect on my own romantic history.
I’ve loved deeply. I’ve given generously. But when I look back at my relationships, I see a pattern: men who wanted to make love to me, who were fascinated by me, used me — or simply needed me. Needed my strength. Needed my loyalty. Needed my love. Needed my femininity. But rarely did they profess a desire to give love. Rarely did they speak the language of emotional reciprocity.
As a heterosexual woman, I’ve always seen same-sex relationships as a choice — one I don’t personally align with. I’ve viewed them through the lens of sin, disease, societal confusion, or emotional misdirection. But this metaphor — fluent in Love — didn’t ask me to change my beliefs. It asked me to examine my fluency.
When that celebrity said they received love “in the form it came,” I felt something shift. Not in my orientation — but in my expectations. Their metaphor made me pause. Because maybe the real question isn’t about orientation. Maybe it’s about fluency. About recognizing love when it shows up — and knowing how to flow within it. Maybe it’s about how we love. And whether we’re fluent enough to recognize when someone’s speaking our language — or just echoing their own needs.
🧠 Emotional Literacy vs. Spiritual Conviction
I’m not here to affirm what I don’t believe. I am here to help you grow. So, I ask: Can someone be emotionally literate in ways that challenge our spiritual framework? Can we respect someone’s emotional journey without compromising our convictions?
“Fluency in love isn’t about changing your beliefs — it’s about raising your standards.” — Keyola Consultants
Fluent in Love — But Who’s Speaking My Language?
🧭 Raising the Standard - A New Standard for Love
What does it mean to be fluent in love? To recognize it when it arrives in unfamiliar packaging? To receive it without needing it to match our expectations? This isn’t about orientation. It’s about discernment. It’s about recognizing when love is present — and knowing whether it’s meant for you.
Therefore, I have / am raising my standards. Like so many women, I want a man who doesn’t just need love — but knows how to give it. A man fluent in emotional presence, in spiritual partnership, in the kind of love that doesn’t just consume, but cultivates. A legacy-building intimacy. I want to be loved in a language I understand — and I want to be fluent enough to recognize it when it arrives.
Legacy isn’t built on comfort. It’s built on clarity. And maybe being fluent in love means knowing when someone’s speaking your language — and when they’re just echoing their own needs. I’m listening differently now. Not to what’s said, but to what’s offered. Because love, when it’s real, doesn’t just ask to be received. It arrives ready to give.
🔑 Call to Action: Keyola Consultants
At Keyola Consultants, we’ve always taught women to lead with discernment, poise, and emotional intelligence. This reflection is no different. Whether you’re navigating love, leadership, or legacy — fluency matters.
Ask yourself:
Am I fluent in recognizing love when it’s real —beyond performance, beyond need, beyond nostalgia?
Am I fluent in my love language of worth, clarity, legacy and reciprocity?
Am I fluent in receiving love that’s meant for me — not just familiar to me?
Am I fluent in giving love?
If you’re ready to raise your standards, refine your emotional literacy, and build a legacy rooted in clarity, Keyola Consultants is here to guide you. Because love, when it’s real, doesn’t just ask to be received. It arrives ready to give.
I recall this interview and also found the term used interesting. Thank you for diving deeper.👍
Wow! Officially redirected. This came on time for me, in so many ways. 🙌
This reflection was powerful—and layered. I found myself wondering, with all the emotional nuance and the metaphor of being “fluent in love,” if this post was inspired by a personal moment of curiosity or experience. Have you ever been approached by a woman in a way that made you pause? Or has same-sex attraction ever stirred reflection in your journey?
I ask not to pry, but because your writing invites deep questions—and this one felt present between the lines. Whether the answer is yes, no, or somewhere in between, the emotional literacy you model here is rare and worth honoring. Thank you for sharing so boldly.
As a gay man who’s spent years reconciling faith with identity, this post moved me deeply. Not because it asked me to agree—but because it asked me to reflect. The metaphor of being fluent in love spoke to something I’ve felt but rarely seen named: the ability to receive love, not lust, in the form it arrives even when it challenges our expectations.
I love your honesty, your bravery, your conviction, and your willingness to sit with discomfort without shutting down the conversation. You didn’t affirm what you don’t believe—but you did model emotional literacy, and that’s a language I understand. Love isn’t always fluent in our theology, but it can be fluent in our humanity. And that’s worth listening to.
This piece hit me in ways I didn’t expect. As a man who’s been doing the work to grow emotionally and spiritually, I found myself nodding through every paragraph. The idea of being fluent in love—not just needing it but knowing how to give it—challenged me to reflect on how I’ve shown up in past relationships.
Too often, we’re taught to pursue love without learning its language. What you wrote reminded me that emotional presence isn’t optional—it’s foundational. I admire your honesty, your discernment, and your call to raise the standard. It’s not just a message for women—it’s a mirror for men who want to love with legacy in mind.
Thank you for this. I’m listening differently now, too.😉