Remember Love

Remember Love Plot Summary

Introduction

In the symphony of modern voices seeking to inspire and uplift, Cleo Wade's emerges as particularly resonant—warm, accessible, and profoundly authentic. Often described as "the poet of her generation" by Time magazine, Wade has crafted a unique space where poetry, philosophy, and everyday wisdom converge. Her journey from a young woman searching for meaning to becoming a beloved voice of comfort for millions exemplifies how personal struggles can transform into universal healing. Through her captivating exploration of self-love, heartbreak, resilience, and renewal, Wade invites readers into an intimate conversation about what it means to be human in tender times. Her approach isn't about presenting a perfect life but rather about embracing the messiness of existence with grace and courage. As we follow her path of self-discovery, we're offered not just inspiration but practical wisdom for navigating our own moments of lostness, transition, and rebirth. Wade's words serve as both mirror and lantern—reflecting our shared humanity while illuminating paths toward deeper connection with ourselves and others.

Chapter 1: Finding Home Within: The Power of Self-Recognition

Wade begins her exploration of self-discovery with a powerful acknowledgment: getting lost is an inevitable part of life. "We get lost. Often. It just happens. And it's okay," she writes, establishing that the heart work we do isn't meant to avoid difficult emotions but rather to equip us to handle them with grace. This foundation sets the stage for understanding that lostness can be a starting point for profound self-discovery. Through poetic reflections like "homecoming," Wade illustrates how we sometimes abandon ourselves during times of stress or fear. She recounts her own experience of disconnection: "I said she'll be fine too many times so she left me." This personification of the self as someone who departs when neglected but can return when properly acknowledged offers readers a touchstone for recognizing their own patterns of self-abandonment. The poem concludes with a powerful promise: "you may get lost but you won't stay lost—the love within you will always welcome you home." Wade explores the challenge of loving oneself during periods of unfamiliarity. "I know how to love myself on a regular day feeling like my regular self, but nothing really prepares you for how to feel good about yourself when you don't feel like yourself," she confesses. This honest admission resonates with anyone who has experienced life transitions that alter their sense of identity. She describes the transformative moment when she encountered the phrase "Remember Love" during a meditation, which became her anchor during difficult times. The concept of relaxation emerges as a counterintuitive but essential element of self-connection. Referencing poet Nikki Giovanni's advice that writers need to relax, Wade acknowledges how foreign this notion felt in a culture that valorizes busyness. "Being busy, exhausted, and distracted had become my norm. Being outside of myself had become my norm," she writes, articulating how we often flee from ourselves to avoid uncomfortable emotions. Her realization that "to love ourselves is to continuously reclaim ourselves" offers a compassionate framework for the ongoing work of self-reunion. Wade further explores how our connection to something larger than ourselves—nature, the universe, the collective human experience—can ground us during periods of disconnection. She shares a beautiful anecdote about witnessing neighbors gathering to applaud the sunset, which moved her to tears. "I think we love sunsets so much because they remind us that we belong to mother nature, she doesn't belong to us," she reflects, highlighting how recognizing our place within something vast can provide perspective and comfort during personal struggles. Through intimate reflections on her own journey of reclaiming herself, Wade establishes that finding home within isn't a destination but a continuous practice of remembering our wholeness, even when life circumstances challenge our sense of identity. Her gentle reminder that "your winter is becoming spring" offers hope that periods of internal coldness and stillness eventually give way to new growth and warmth.

Chapter 2: Worthy Rebellions: Breaking Free from Expectations

Wade begins this exploration of rebellion against limiting standards by addressing the illusion of "enough-ness" as a mountain we falsely believe we must climb. Instead, she suggests we need to see through this mirage and recognize that our worth isn't contingent on external validations or achievements. This perspective sets the foundation for what she calls "worthy rebellions"—the courageous acts of breaking free from societal expectations that diminish our authentic selves. The poet challenges the conditional nature of self-love, questioning why we often postpone loving ourselves until we've accomplished something noteworthy. "Why do we wait to love ourselves?" she asks, suggesting that we needlessly delay self-acceptance until we feel we've earned it. Wade argues that self-love isn't a reward for achievement but our birthright: "We don't need to earn our own love. It wholly belongs to us no matter our circumstances." This radical redefinition of self-love as unconditional rather than merit-based represents a profound rebellion against performance-based worth. Wade examines how many of us become "the glue" in our relationships and communities, holding everything together at the expense of our own needs. "When we are being the glue—doing the lion's share of the emotional and domestic labor, organizing everyone's lives, working around the needs of others without considering our own—we turn ourselves into a utility," she observes. This insight invites readers to question whether they've transformed themselves into tools for others rather than being fully recognized members of their communities. The concept of balance comes under scrutiny as Wade challenges its utility as a life framework. "Balance is often marketed to us as the ultimate goal for a happy life, but as a recovering perfectionist, I find that chasing balance leaves me feeling out of breath and not enough," she confesses. Instead, she advocates for harmony—a more fluid acknowledgment that everything present is part of the whole. This shift from rigidity to flexibility represents another worthy rebellion against perfectionist standards that set us up for perpetual failure. Wade explores the power of contemplation in a world obsessed with productivity. Referencing a conversation with a friend about a legendary musical performer, she notes how creative longevity often stems from taking time between projects to think deeply about what to create next. "We make time for our family, we make time to get lost in the scroll of our phones, we make time to exercise... but do we make time to contemplate?" This question challenges readers to rebel against constant motion in favor of intentional stillness that fosters creativity and purpose. Throughout this section, Wade weaves together personal insights and universal wisdom to encourage readers to question internalized expectations that no longer serve them. Her exploration of "worthy rebellions" ultimately invites us to reclaim our authentic selves by questioning whose standards we're living by and whether those standards align with our deepest values and needs.

Chapter 3: Navigating Heartbreak: Lessons in Emotional Resilience

Wade begins her exploration of heartbreak by reframing our understanding of love itself. Drawing from bell hooks' definition of love as "a combination of care, commitment, knowledge, responsibility, respect, and trust," she emphasizes that love is both a spiritual practice that asks us to live in awe of its hugeness and a practical practice that requires clear boundaries. This foundation helps readers approach heartbreak with greater clarity about what genuine love entails. Reflecting on her childhood understanding of love, Wade shares a valentine she wrote as a seven-year-old, which read: "I show my love for you by being quiet when you are on the phone, I show my love for you by going to bed on time, I show my love for you by washing the dishes." This early conditioning taught her that love meant being cooperative and making someone else's life easier—a pattern that led her to "live in the shadows of those I love as an adult." By recognizing these ingrained patterns, Wade invites readers to examine their own inherited beliefs about love that might be contributing to their heartbreak. Wade tackles the particular pain of unrequited commitment, describing it as "going through a breakup every other day." She illuminates how we create stories to justify staying with someone who won't commit: "They love me but they have some family stuff to work through. They love me but they need to focus on their career." Through her own experiences, including believing she could "make it work with a guy who actively put an ocean between us," Wade demonstrates how these rationalizations keep us trapped in unfulfilling dynamics. Her conclusion that "a love worthy of your time is one that feels like equal devotion" offers a powerful metric for evaluating relationships. One of the most profound insights Wade offers about navigating heartbreak comes through her poem "what to do when your heart breaks," which advises: "enter through the wound / lie down on the floor / of your determined heart / breathe / let it show you how / it beats beyond defeat." This approach suggests that embracing rather than avoiding our pain can reveal our innate resilience. She elaborates on this theme by sharing wisdom from a friend's mother, who explained that "pain causes us to question our life" in ways that joy doesn't, potentially guiding us toward what we truly need. Wade introduces the concept of "soul contracts" as a framework for understanding why relationships end or change. She explains that "all our connections have a soul contract" and "when a relationship is experiencing constant friction, it can be a sign that the contract is outdated and we need to either create a new one with new terms or part ways." This perspective offers readers a less personal, more cosmic understanding of relationship transitions that can ease the sting of rejection or separation. Throughout this section, Wade balances acknowledgment of heartbreak's genuine pain with gentle encouragement toward healing. Her approach never minimizes suffering but consistently points toward the transformative potential hidden within our most painful experiences. As she writes, "Heartbreak is a place of deep feeling. When we swim beyond the pain, sadness, loss, and fear, we find our power to learn, change, and grow."

Chapter 4: The Art of Letting Go: Embracing Transformation

Wade opens this exploration of letting go by embracing the cyclical nature of existence. "Starting over is a part of our nature," she writes, pointing to how we "end one breath and take in another each second" and witness the seasons change around us. This natural framework helps readers understand that endings and beginnings are not exceptional events but the very rhythm of life itself. Her gentle assertion that "too many of our endings are more painful than they need to be because we are not allowing them to turn into new beginnings" establishes letting go as not merely a loss but a doorway to transformation. Rather than promoting "fearlessness" as an achievable state, Wade challenges conventional wisdom by acknowledging fear's permanence. "I have stopped using the word fearless lately," she confesses, explaining that fear is "always present" and "a part of our aliveness, our personhood." Instead of trying to eliminate fear, she suggests working with it: "When I work with and learn to accept the presence of big feelings like fear, impostor syndrome, and self-doubt, I can say okay, you are here, where do you belong?" This approach shifts from resistance to integration, allowing us to move forward despite our fears. Wade brings remarkable tenderness to the topic of crying, revealing her own struggle: "I hid my tears for so long, they began hiding from me." Quoting Nikki Giovanni's insight that "we are strong enough to stand tall tearlessly, we are brave enough to bend to cry," she connects emotional release with courage rather than weakness. Her poem "a release" further celebrates tears as "a gift to have a body that will let go of what I can no longer hold." This perspective transforms crying from something shameful into a natural and necessary aspect of letting go. The concept of masks and authenticity emerges as Wade describes her experience after ending a consuming relationship where she'd been "giving and fixing and trying to hold every piece together just right for years." Even after the breakup, she felt stuck in the pattern of being "really stiff and uptight." Her journey back to herself came through deliberate actions to reclaim her authentic, "weird" self—traveling to Mardi Gras, dancing in the street, letting go of caring what anyone thought. This story illustrates how letting go sometimes requires active reclamation of parts we've suppressed. Wade offers a nuanced view of quitting, challenging the notion that it always represents failure. "Quitting is often a part of letting go," she writes, explaining that "when we change, or the world around us changes... we have to let our goals change, we have to let our minds change, we have to let our hearts change." This perspective grants readers permission to release what no longer serves them without shame or self-judgment. The section culminates with Wade's beautiful reflections on forgiveness as "not a decision" but "a devotional practice" that we "weave into our lives like a prayer." She contrasts this approach with futile attempts to forget our pain: "Trying to forget is feverish labor that distracts us from our suffering without healing it." Instead, daily practice of forgiveness—especially self-forgiveness—gradually clears the clouds, transforming what we might have carried as ghosts into angels that "lead me someplace new, someplace that lives in my light."

Chapter 5: Creating Space for Love: Building Authentic Connections

Wade begins this exploration of authentic connection by acknowledging the pervasive judgment that characterizes modern relationships. "We are very hard on each other," she observes, noting how online platforms have not only increased our access to each other's lives but also implicitly invited constant commentary through "comment sections" that appear beneath every window into others' experiences. This environment, she suggests, has trapped us in rigid evaluations of right and wrong, good and bad, deserving and undeserving—judgments that cover us in "muddy, unconstructive energy" and distract us from our own paths. The transformation of difficult emotions like jealousy emerges as a key practice in creating space for love. Wade describes jealousy as "a powerful emotion with a lot of information" that can either become destructive or, when properly processed, serve as "a signal directing us towards what we want." She encourages readers to reframe jealous thoughts from "I want that. You shouldn't have it" to "I want that. I'm grateful for what I see in your journey because it is helping me clarify my goals." This alchemical approach to challenging emotions creates more space for genuine connection. Vulnerability receives clarification through Cheryl Strayed's definition as "being honest about who you are and what you are going through." Wade reflects on how this simple yet profound definition illuminated her own journey from superficial connections to deeper intimacy. "My connections were wide but not deep. I wanted to be the person who was always okay," she admits, explaining how she flooded those around her with "helpful, giving energy" to avoid examining her own needs for healing. Her gradual movement toward greater honesty created the conditions for more authentic relationships. Wade examines the liberating practice of releasing concern about others' opinions. Sharing wisdom from friends—"other people's opinions of her are none of her business" and being "happy when people like her, but she doesn't need people to like her in order to be happy"—Wade celebrates these as "powerful and worthy rebellions." She describes her own journey from needing everyone's approval to recognizing that "I decide the quality of my character. I know who I am, and in knowing who I am, I can let go of other people's opinions of who I am." The balance between efficiency and presence emerges when Wade addresses a question from someone with a demanding job about making limited family time more meaningful. "The strategies for a productive workday don't usually work for creating deeper connection with those we love," she advises, explaining that "relationships live outside of our lists and org charts. We can't have an efficiency mindset when it comes to loving others. Love is slow. It is warm, tender, patient, and surprising." Throughout this section, Wade weaves together personal revelations with universal wisdom to help readers create more authentic connections. She consistently emphasizes that meaningful relationships require letting go of performance, embracing honest expression, and creating space for the natural, unhurried rhythms of love to unfold. Her approach balances the hard work of relationship-building with the ease that comes from genuine alignment with our truest selves.

Chapter 6: Reclaiming Your Story: From Pain to Purpose

Wade begins this profound exploration of transformation by challenging the notion that rock bottom represents ultimate failure. "Are things falling apart or falling away?" she asks, suggesting that life "consistently asks us to shed" various elements that no longer serve us. Rather than viewing rock bottom as "the worst place we could end up," she reframes it as "the place most of us rediscovered and repaired our foundation so we could rebuild our lives with love and intention." This perspective immediately offers readers hope that their lowest moments might actually be fertile ground for meaningful change. The concept of recovery receives thoughtful attention as Wade defines it as "to regain possession of something stolen or lost." She acknowledges the universal experience of trying to recover time—whether perceived as wasted in relationships, lost in childhood, or spent indoors during recent global challenges. Through her personal journey of reclaiming herself after difficult periods, Wade normalizes the feeling of being "a little off as we navigate new selves, goals, and perspectives on life." Her gentle reframing of recovery as "a spiritual dance with change" validates the discomfort while pointing toward its transformative potential. Wade introduces the powerful distinction between transitions and rebirths. "Not every change is a transition. Some are rebirths," she writes, explaining that "a rebirth, like any other birth, has some pain but also a lot of magic." Sharing how a spiritual teacher once told her that her daughter's birth would be her own rebirth, Wade confesses she'd "never really considered the idea of being reborn in my one lifetime." This concept helped her make sense of major life changes, offering a framework that felt "liberating" compared to the tug-of-war sensation of transition. Through personal examples, Wade identifies several moments of rebirth in her own life—quitting her day job to become a writer, healing from heartbreak, and becoming a mother. She notes how the language of rebirth would have "helped me make sense of my sorrow and confusion as I desperately tried to hold on to outdated relationships, friendships, and ideas about myself that no longer belonged." This insight offers readers permission to embrace the discomfort of radical change as a necessary part of growth. Wade explores how our beliefs about love can keep us trapped in unhealthy patterns. Recounting a late-night conversation with a friend about loving someone who didn't love her back, she shares the transformative question her friend posed: "Do you believe that this is the only person you are meant to be with for your entire life? Of all the people you have met? Of all the people you will ever meet?" This prompted Wade to examine deeper beliefs: "Do I believe that I show up for love but love doesn't have to show up for me? Do I believe that feeling bad is a part of love?" Throughout this section, Wade demonstrates how reclaiming our stories involves challenging inherited beliefs, embracing periods of profound change, and recognizing that what feels like an ending often contains the seeds of a new beginning. Her poem "how it goes" captures this journey beautifully: "your heart is broken and every day is sad until one day all at once with no notice you find beauty again." This promise of renewal provides hope without minimizing the genuine pain of transformation.

Chapter 7: Living in Harmony: Beyond the Myth of Balance

Wade introduces her critique of balance by describing how this concept often transforms our lives into a constant measuring exercise. "Balance is often marketed to us as the ultimate goal for a happy life, but as a recovering perfectionist, I find that chasing balance leaves me feeling out of breath and not enough," she confesses. This candid admission immediately challenges the prevailing wisdom that perfect equilibrium between work, family, and personal needs should be our ultimate goal. Instead of balance, Wade proposes harmony as a more realistic and fulfilling approach to life. "In balance, we turn our life into a scale, constantly moving and measuring. In harmony, we turn our life into a song. Every sound in the song belongs," she writes. This musical metaphor offers a more fluid, integrative understanding of how different elements of our lives can coexist without requiring equal weight or attention at all times. Harmony "allows for movement, flexibility, and grace" in contrast to the rigid expectations of balance. Wade shares her personal journey of trying to achieve balance through meticulous scheduling, describing how she "lived by time slots in my calendar, obsessing over magic scheduling formulas" that she thought would give her the "right" amount of time for different aspects of her life. The futility of this approach became clear as she recognized that "life doesn't fit in boxes. Life is a wild animal, or a mighty oak tree with unruly roots. We don't tame it. We find harmony with it." This revelation freed her from the perfectionism that had governed her approach to time management. The difference between having a life and measuring a life emerges as a central theme. "Your role is to be in your life, not cut and measure it. If we are always doing the math, we are never part of the equation," Wade observes. This insight challenges readers to shift from constant evaluation to greater presence and participation in their own experiences. She reinforces this perspective by quoting Gloria Steinem's definition of success as "the moment when you feel you are doing something you care about, that you can be honest, and that you're able to live in the moment." Wade explores the tension between material and relational goals, noting how achievement-focused objectives often leave us feeling empty even when we succeed. "When the material is at the center of my goals, I cross the finish line, and even if I am holding the first-place trophy, there is some loneliness there. But when the relational is at the center of my goals, whether I finish first or last, I am what's held." This profound distinction invites readers to reconsider what truly constitutes success in their lives. The section culminates with Wade's reflections on surrender and the unpredictable nature of life's journey. "We may know where we want to go in life, but we surrender to the fact that we have no idea how we will get there," she writes, sharing how even writing this book involved unexpected challenges that ultimately enhanced her creative process. Her personal anecdote about meeting her current partner "at a party celebrating my ex" perfectly illustrates how life's most meaningful developments often arrive through unexpected channels. This embrace of uncertainty, rather than rigid planning, embodies the essence of living in harmony.

Summary

The journey through Cleo Wade's exploration of self-discovery and healing ultimately reveals one profound truth: remembering love—for ourselves, for others, and for life itself—is our most powerful tool for navigating life's inevitable challenges. Wade's wisdom doesn't offer a glossy, Instagram-perfect vision of self-love, but rather a raw, honest framework for embracing our humanity in all its messiness. Her approach combines poeticism with pragmatism, acknowledging the reality of heartbreak, fear, and disconnection while consistently pointing toward the resilience that waits on the other side of these experiences. Wade's insights invite us to practice what might be called "radical self-reclamation"—the continuous work of returning to ourselves when life's demands pull us away from our center. Her emphasis on harmony over balance, authenticity over performance, and forgiveness over forgetting provides practical guidance for anyone seeking to build a more meaningful relationship with themselves and others. For those navigating periods of transition, heartbreak, or uncertainty, Wade's journey offers both comfort and courage—a gentle reminder that our capacity to begin again is perhaps our greatest human gift. Like the daily sunrise she so beautifully references, each of us contains the inherent ability to start fresh, to transform our pain into purpose, and to remember the love that remains our birthright even in the tenderest of times.

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Cleo Wade

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