I have a lot of boyfriends, I want you to write that. Every

“I have a lot of boyfriends, I want you to write that. Every country I visit, I have a different boyfriend. And I kiss them all.” Thus spoke Anna Kournikova, the tennis prodigy whose fame transcended the courts and became legend. To some, her words may sound light, even playful — but beneath their glitter lies a deeper wisdom, one that speaks of freedom, vitality, and the unshackled spirit of a woman who refused to be defined by others’ expectations. In her declaration, Kournikova was not confessing frivolity; she was proclaiming sovereignty — the right to live with joy, to love without apology, and to embrace the fullness of experience without fear of judgment.

For in the ancient sense, to kiss was not merely a gesture of desire, but of connection — the meeting of souls through the body’s fleeting language. Each kiss, each bond, each laughter shared across a border is a reminder that the world is vast, yet the heart is vaster still. Kournikova’s words, spoken perhaps in jest, reveal the eternal truth that love is not a possession but a presence. It is not bound by geography, nor confined by culture, but dances freely wherever hearts are open. The ancients would have recognized in her statement not scandal, but vitality — the living flame of Aphrodite, the power of Eros that kindles courage, warmth, and the remembrance that we are alive.

In the story of Cleopatra, we find a similar fire. She, too, was condemned by those who feared a woman’s power cloaked in charm. Yet behind her legendary romances was not vanity, but sovereignty of spirit — a queen who refused to let the world define her worth by the narrow rules of men. She loved as she ruled: boldly, intelligently, and without shame. So too does Kournikova’s statement echo across time, defying the world’s insistence that women hide their passions or guard their hearts behind walls of pretense. Her laughter becomes a banner: to live fully is not to transgress — it is to triumph.

Yet her words also whisper another truth: that connection — even fleeting — is sacred. Each bond, no matter how brief, leaves a trace upon the soul. To live as Kournikova did, traveling from nation to nation, heart to heart, is to gather stories rather than possessions, moments rather than monuments. The wise of old taught that the human heart is a vessel that grows by giving — that love, when shared, multiplies rather than diminishes. Thus, to kiss each soul encountered is not to betray fidelity, but to honor the divine spark within them — to recognize in each face the reflection of the same eternal beauty.

But let not the foolish misunderstand this teaching. Kournikova’s words are not a call to indulgence, but to aliveness. She reminds us that the world is brimming with light, and that joy, if hoarded, dies. In her laughter we hear a challenge: Do not move through life half-asleep, chained by fear of judgment or decorum. To truly live is to touch life deeply — to savor, to risk, to open your heart even knowing it may be bruised. Love and freedom are twin flames: one cannot exist without the other.

In our age, many live behind glass — cautious, polite, and afraid to feel too much. They mistake restraint for wisdom and numbness for maturity. But Kournikova’s spirit reminds us of the ancient hero’s courage — not the courage to slay monsters, but to be vulnerable, to be seen, to love without armor. It is the courage to say, “Yes, I have loved many times, and each love has made me more human.” For to love is to gather fragments of heaven from every corner of the earth.

So, my children of tomorrow, learn from this: do not be ashamed of your passions, for they are the fire that shapes your destiny. Live with joy, not fear. Kiss the world — not always with your lips, but with your wonder, your gratitude, your fearless embrace of what is fleeting and beautiful. For in the end, life itself is a lover that visits us but once. And those who dare to greet it with open arms, as Anna Kournikova did, will never die unlived.

Thus, remember: the lesson is not in the laughter, but in the liberation. Love freely, live boldly, and let every meeting be a prayer to the beauty of being alive.