2: one who is loved
3: a generally likable person
4: a remarkable one of its kind
Sweetheart (n.): late 13th century as a form of address, 1570s as a synonym for “loved one;” from sweet (from Old English swete “pleasing to the senses, mind or feeling; having a pleasant disposition”) + heart (from Old English heorte “heart; breast, soul, spirit, will, desire; courage; mind, intellect”). As an adjective, with reference to labor contracts, it is attested from 1959.
“I've always found that the most beautiful people, truly beautiful inside and out, are the ones who are quietly unaware of their effect.”
Jennifer L. Armentrout (b. 1980, New York Times and International bestselling author of young adult novels in paranormal, science fiction, fantasy, and contemporary romance genres; her novel, “Obsidian,” has been optioned by Sierra Pictures)
“They talk of a man betraying his country, his friends, his sweetheart. There must be a moral bond first. All a man can betray is his conscience.”
Joseph Conrad (1857-1924, English writer of Polish descent regarded as one of the greatest novelists to write in the English language; best known for writing, “Lord Jim,” “Nostromo,” and “The Secret Agent,” and the short story, “Heart of Darkness.”)
“For more and more of us, home has really less to do with a piece of soil than, you could say, with a piece of soul. If somebody suddenly asks me, ‘Where is your home?’ I think about my sweetheart or my closest friends or the songs that travel with me wherever I happen to be.”
Pico Iyer (b. Siddharth Pico Raghavan Iyer in 1957, British-born essayist and novelist of Indian origin; best known for his fascinating and often jarring travel writing chronicles as examples of cultural mashups.)
“My sweetheart is to me more than a coined hemisphere.”
Anthony Trollope (1815-1882, one of the most successful, prolific and respected novelist of the Victorian era.)
“‘Sweetheart,’ ‘darling,’ ‘luv.’ I like these words; they fit me like a comfortable old pullover. I remember them from childhood; that’s what innocent little boys were called by cheerful aunties back then, to make them feel welcome and secure in the world.”
Michael Leunig (b. 1945, Australian cartoonist, writer, painter, philosopher, poet, and cultural commentator; best known for “The Adventures of Vasco Pyjama” and the “Curly Flats” series.)
“’Sweetheart,’ ‘darling,’ ‘luv.’ I like these words; they fit me like a comfortable old pullover. I remember them from childhood; that’s what innocent little boys were called by cheerful aunties back then, to make them feel welcome and secure in the world.” — Michael Leunig
As a teenager being fortunate to study at charm school I was educated to present myself with grace as much as possible, but to also not to pay so much attention to wealthy men’s allurements. Instead, I was instructed to politely greet a working-man who respectfully said good morning to me.
I also learned to smile and respectfully return the greeting those well-dressed elderly men in the city who took the time to say, “Good Morning, Doll,” as I passed them on my way to work.
As a child, I was also called, “sweetheart,” and “sweetie” a lot. Those honey-filled sentiments were so comforting and always seemed to come from a place of true endearment, reminding me that I was a child of God and made with Love.
My father also gave me a few unique and funny nicknames, as did my godmother who called me, “Bubbles.” To me these names resembled sweetheart and acknowledged my invisible and visible effervescence.
Names like words are very powerful. They can uplift and facilitate healing or they can manipulate and pummel another person’s self-esteem. Being called, “sweetheart” under the right conditions and in the right tone can be the opposite bullying, soothing instead of belittling.
If we can all somehow get back to greeting each other sweetly from a true sincere place of unconditional love, and not from a place of degradation or condescension, then we maybe we can forge more respectful connections and meaningful relationships moving forward.
Stay your sweetest, my sojourners!
Miraculously Yours, Tonya