You're holding the pin
I Loved
It looks like the sticker they hand you at a polling place. Same blue top, same red bottom, same three white stars. One word is different, and that word is the whole point.

What it means
I VOTED is a receipt. You did the thing, you wear the proof, and everyone who sees it is nudged to do it too. I LOVED borrows that exact machinery and points it at something we treat as private.
Past tense, on purpose. Not a promise and not a mood, just a thing you already did. You showed up for somebody. You said it out loud. You stayed when leaving was easier. That counts, and it's worth wearing.
Yes, it's hard to explain love in the past tense, because I still love. The tense isn't about the feeling ending. It's about the act having happened.

It needs a second look
There's a word for what this is: détournement. A familiar thing, rerouted to say something else. The blue top, the red bottom, the three stars. You already know how to read it, so you read it fast and keep walking.
Most people don't see what's really there. This one has to be looked at twice before the word lands, and that second look is most of the point.
Five letters, both words. People see the same letters and assume it just says I VOTED. It's fine to vote. But the pin isn't about that. It asks for a little paying attention, because that's where the meaning lives.
The deeper thing
Honestly, the reroute is a distraction from the reason I made them in the first place.
I'm red, you're blue. I'm a Dem, you're an elephant. You're Catholic, I'm Islamic. Every one of those is a question about which side you're on, and the sides keep changing.
I stepped outside that “you're in, you're out” dualism and made it about love instead. Nobody has to agree with me to earn one. There's no team, no membership, and nothing to sign.
Last night somebody asked me about it straight. He didn't like wearing things like this, and he had questions. Here is what I told him: it's not about factions. It's about the third option. Step out of dualistic thinking and make a space for options, something other than separateness.
My point is to lift the conversation above the question of whose team you're on. To a different level of thinking, and beauty, and discussion.
How big it is
Smaller than people expect: a one-inch button, about the length of a pencil tip. Small enough to live on a coat lapel, a hat, or a bag strap without announcing itself until someone gets close.

Why it's hard to explain
Only a very few people have actually asked me about it. Most want a punchline, and there isn't one. You can't finish this in six words.
So the pin does the first half of the work. It gets you stopped. Then you say who you loved, and that part is easy to explain.
Got one? Here's what to do
- 1. Wear it where people can see it.
- 2. When somebody asks, tell them who you loved.
- 3. When you meet the next person who's earned it, pass it on.
There's a second pin. It's louder. I Give a F**k →