We live in a fast-paced, immediate, and ever-changing world. Everything seems designed to satisfy us quickly and, just as quickly, cease to matter to us. In this context, relationships have also become fragile, flexible, almost disposable. Sociologist Zygmunt Bauman called this liquid modernity , and from it are born what we now know as liquid relationships .

What do we mean when we talk about liquid relationships? We mean connections that don't seek to take root, that don't aim to last, that are enjoyed while they exist but offer no certainty. Relationships that are built in an instant and dissolve at the first obstacle.

Liquidity is convenient because it demands no commitment. It's attractive because it promises freedom. But it's also fragile because liquids don't hold. It's like holding water in your hands: you feel it for a moment, but it inevitably slips through your fingers.

And although we often believe that superficiality is the best option, the truth is that what our hearts yearn for is not fleeting, but profound. A solid relationship is like a tree: it needs time, roots, care, and patience. And yes, it involves vulnerability and commitment, but it also gives us stability, trust, and meaning.

The consequences of living in fluid relationships are real: anxiety, insecurity, loneliness disguised as companionship. Many contacts, few true connections. Intense moments, but without depth. It's an emotional mirage: it seems like love, but in reality, it's just a fleeting reflection.

The invitation is clear: let us not be afraid to seek what is solid in a fluid world. Let us not fear commitment, patience, or transparency. Because, in the end, what fills the soul is not what evaporates quickly, but what remains steadfast by our side.

True love is not afraid of time or trials. And as the Word reminds us in 1 Corinthians 13:7 (KJV):
“Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.”

Liquids may entertain, but solids provide support.