Love is a mess. We use one tiny, overworked word to describe how we feel about a double pepperoni pizza, a newborn baby, and a spouse of forty years. It’s honestly a bit ridiculous. Because of this linguistic bottleneck, we end up confused. We expect a partner to provide the rush of a new crush, the loyalty of a brother, and the selfless care of a parent, all at once.
It’s too much pressure.
Most people looking for the different kinds of love are usually trying to figure out why their current relationship feels "off" or why they feel a specific type of ache they can’t name. Historically, we look to the Ancient Greeks to bail us out here. They had a much more granular vocabulary for the heart. But even the way we talk about the "Greek types of love" today is often watered down by Hallmark-style interpretations.
Let's get into the grit of how these actually play out in a modern life that involves TikTok, therapy, and long-term commitment.
Eros Is Not Just About the Bedroom
We start with Eros. People usually think this just means sex. It doesn't. Or rather, it’s much more chaotic than that. For the Greeks, Eros was a form of madness. It was a literal arrow from a god that made you lose your mind.
Think about that first month of dating someone new. You can’t eat. You can’t sleep. You’re checking your phone every eleven seconds. That’s Eros. It’s a fire. But here’s the thing about fire: it’s a terrible foundation for a house. It’s great for the fireplace, but if you build the floorboards out of it, you’re going to get burned.
Modern psychology, specifically the work of Dorothy Tennov, calls a version of this "Limerence." It’s that involuntary state of intense desire. The problem is that Western culture has tricked us into thinking that if the Eros fades, the love is dead. That is a lie that ruins perfectly good relationships. Eros is designed to fade. It has to. If your heart rate stayed that high for ten years, you’d have a medical emergency.
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Philia and the Death of Modern Friendship
Then there’s Philia. This is often translated as "brotherly love," but that feels a bit stiff. It’s better described as the love between equals. It’s the bond you feel with someone you’ve shared a foxhole with—whether that’s a literal war or just a really grueling corporate project.
Aristotle thought Philia was the highest form of love because it was free from the coercion of passion. You choose your friends. You don’t always "choose" who you fall in lust with.
We are currently living through what researchers call a "friendship recession." A 2021 report from the Survey Center on American Life found that Americans have fewer close friends than they did three decades ago. We’ve over-indexed on romantic love and neglected Philia. This is dangerous. When you put the entire emotional burden of your existence on one romantic partner, you’re setting them up to fail. You need friends who love you for your mind and your shared interests, not just because you share a mortgage.
Storge: The Love You Didn't Choose
Storge is different. It’s the natural affection that flows between parents and children. It’s also the love you feel for that one cousin who is kind of annoying but you’d still help them move a couch at 4 AM.
It’s a love of dependency and familiarity.
It isn't flashy. You don't write poems about Storge. It’s built on the boring, repetitive tasks of life. Making school lunches. Driving to soccer practice. Remembering how someone likes their coffee. It’s the "old shoe" of the different kinds of love. It’s comfortable, it fits, and you don’t realize how much you need it until it’s gone.
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When Love Becomes a Mirror: Philautia
We have to talk about Philautia, or self-love.
This isn't about buying yourself a bath bomb or "treating yourself" to a latte. The Greeks saw two versions of this. One was unhealthy—basically narcissism. The other was the essential foundation for being a functional human.
If you don't like yourself, you’re going to spend your whole life looking for other people to fill a hole that doesn't have a bottom. You’ll become a "love vampire," constantly needing reassurance because you can’t provide it for yourself. Clinical psychologist Dr. Tara Brach often talks about "radical acceptance," which is a modern bridge to this ancient idea. It’s about looking at your own flaws and not recoiling in disgust.
The Heavy Hitter: Agape
Agape is the one that gets the most "spiritual" press. It’s often defined as unconditional love or "charity." In the Christian tradition, it’s the love God has for man. In a secular sense, it’s the love you feel for humanity as a whole.
It is a deliberate choice.
Most types of love are based on what the other person does for us. They make us feel good, they provide security, they’re fun to talk to. Agape is the only one that is truly selfless. It’s why you donate to a charity for people you’ll never meet. It’s why you stop to help a stranger change a tire in the rain. It’s a "cool" love—not cold, but stable and detached from the ego.
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Pragma and Ludus: The Missing Pieces
If you want to understand why long-term marriages work, you look at Pragma. This is "practical love." It’s about compromise, tolerance, and "making it work." It sounds unromantic, but Pragma is actually the most heroic of the different kinds of love. It’s the decision to stay when things are boring or difficult.
On the flip side, we have Ludus. This is playful love. Flirting. Dancing. The "game" of it all.
Adults are notoriously bad at Ludus. We get so bogged down in bills and parenting and "the future" that we forget how to just play with our partners. If a relationship is all Pragma and no Ludus, it becomes a business arrangement. If it’s all Ludus and no Pragma, it’s a fling that will vanish the moment a real problem arises.
How to Actually Use This Information
Knowing these categories isn't just a fun trivia fact. It’s a diagnostic tool for your life.
If you feel lonely despite being in a relationship, you might be high on Eros but starving for Philia. If your home life feels like a chore, you might have plenty of Storge but you’ve completely lost your Ludus.
You can’t get everything from one person. You shouldn't try.
Instead of asking "Does this person love me?" start asking "What kind of love is present here, and what is missing?" This shifts the focus from a binary (yes/no) to a spectrum. It allows for nuance. You can love your job with Eros (passion) but lack the Pragma (discipline) to stay there long-term. You can love a friend with Philia but realize that a romantic move would kill the very thing that makes the relationship special.
Actionable Steps for a More Balanced Emotional Life
- The Relationship Audit: Sit down and look at your primary relationships. Literally label them. Which ones are giving you Philia? Where is your Ludus coming from? If 100% of your emotional needs are tagged to one person, you are in a high-risk situation.
- Reignite Ludus: If you’re in a long-term partnership, stop "dating" and start "playing." Go to an arcade. Take a dance class where you’re both bad at it. The goal isn't romance; it's playfulness.
- Practice Philautia via "Internal Family Systems": This is a therapy technique that treats the self as a collection of parts. When you feel self-hatred, recognize it’s just one "part" of you trying to protect you. Loving yourself means leading those parts, not silencing them.
- Expand your Agapic circle: Volunteer. Not for the tax break or the Instagram photo, but to practice the muscle of loving someone who can do absolutely nothing for you in return. It’s the ultimate ego-detox.
Love isn't a single feeling. It's an ecosystem. If you only plant one kind of flower, the whole garden eventually fails. Diversity is the only way to keep the heart resilient against the inevitable seasons of life.