Five Things Everybody Should Know About Love

I made all the mistakes so you don't have to

Inside every single one of us is this specific child, who ain’t havin’ it.

So, first a disclaimer: this article is tragically heteronormative. I would love to gain some insight from folks in the LGBT community, if anyone wants to chime in. Maybe there’s some intersectionality with what I’ve got to say here, but then again, maybe not.

Second disclaimer: all articles about relationships tend toward the general. Not every item will resonate with you. When it comes to love, even the sanest and most level-headed among us (so not me) can find herself smack dab in the middle of Crazyland, heading down some bumpy side roads that require a therapist, not an article. But I will try.

Third disclaimer: I am not a therapist. Of the 31 Flavors of Love, I am a sad, tasteless vanilla. But I have had a lot of relationships, lived a lot of years, and have observed, with a compassionate and unjaundiced eye, the foibles of myself and others. I do have some wisdom to share.

Some of this you may already know. Some of this you may have forgotten you know. Either way, it’s good to be reminded of what you know.

Most of us have no idea what love is. We think we’re in love, and to be fair, it sure feels like it. We think wildly obsessive thoughts about the Beloved, stalk their social media accounts, analyze their emojis—and their silences. When they ignore us, it feels as though we’re dying inside, that they don’t love us, or—worse—love somebody else. We’ll always be alone. The whole world is paired off, except us. There’s something fundamentally wrong with us, something we can’t see that makes us unlovable. There will never be another one like the Beloved. Never. We’re going to die of broken hearts.

All those emotions are real. I’m not debating how badly they hurt. But in many cases—dare I say most?—their premise is faulty. People don’t love us or fail to love us because of who we are (beautiful, ugly, fat, boring, obnoxious). They love us because of who they are.

Let me explain.

How many couples do you know where there are major disparities in looks or intelligence or disposition? I know a lot. She’s sweet and lovely; he’s a drunk know-it-all with a disgusting sense of humor. Or he’s an even-keel guy and she’s a shrew. Whenever you hang out with them, you’re always scratching your head, wondering why they’re together. She is clearly hard to love, and yet he’s crazy about her. Is it a matter of compatible dysfunctions? Maybe. But it’s more likely that we love because we are capable of love, even if the object of that love is undeserving. Think: cats, and how undeserving of our devotion they are. And yet.

It is also possible that ….

What passes for love is sometimes a matter of triggered insecurities.

I’m not sure Freud was right about penis envy, but he was right about childhood trauma and how it affects us later on in life. Our earliest relationships with Mom and Dad can not only leave gaping wounds, but narcissistic craters. Who better to finally make us right (and our parents wrong), to make us feel loved, than the Beloved?

But it doesn’t actually work that way, does it? When the wooing stops and the work of a real relationship begins, we grow sullen and angry because the Beloved no longer reflects back the idealized image of ourselves we yearn to believe is true. We might not be perfect after all. If we’re not perfect, the Beloved might leave us. If he leaves us, we die. Maybe not literally, but it’s hard to convince yourself it doesn’t feel that way.

This is particularly true of May-December romances. He’s forty, she’s twenty-five. She thinks he’s the smartest man on earth. He thinks she’s special, more mature than her peers for rightly perceiving his brilliance. His thirsty ego drinks up her adoration like a desert rain. Being with her makes him feel young again. She doesn’t hold him accountable in the same way a woman his age would. He’s no longer falling into obsolescence.

And for a while, it feels great. But it doesn’t stay blissful forever. Being in love with the way someone makes you feel about yourself isn’t love, it’s vanity.

So what is love?

Love is different things for different people, but I would hazard to say that most love is firmly rooted in respect. It’s hard to truly love someone if you don’t respect their intelligence, decision-making, or their moral character. If we cultivated the ability to see with our hearts instead of our eyes, we would be a lot happier in the long run, but we’re fighting Mother Nature on this one. All Mother Nature wants us to do is get knocked up in the back seat of a car.

Sometimes love can feel more like something you distantly remember than you feel.

Especially when things are rocky, you might have to remind yourself that yes, you love this person, even if their behavior has been deplorable and you don’t necessarily feel it. Nine times out of ten, that loving feeling will return if enough time passes for the smoke to clear. Anger and resentment are like pastry layers that have to be peeled back to see what’s underneath. It’s hard to remember how you feel when anger and resentment are allowed to fester. Yet how many of us have the courage to say, “I’m pissed off and here’s why.” It’s so much easier to freeze someone out than to have an honest conversation about what’s bothering you. Don’t ask me how I know this.

All this to say you can’t always trust your feelings. How counterintuitive is that? Women (in particular) can say yes to sex even when they’re not necessarily feeling frisky and end up having a deeply satisfying encounter. Why? Because how we feel in the moment isn’t necessarily how we’re feeling in general. Alternatively, how we think we feel is covering up feelings of a different sort. Sometimes feelings lie. Sometimes we don’t know how we feel. A bizarre claim to make in this day and age of emotional IQ, but one I stand behind.

Learn how to read the road signs.

All too often, we misinterpret love languages, even our own. For instance, I’m very direct in my expression of love. I lavish my boyfriend with attention, affection, and praise. My boyfriend, on the other hand, is more “man-like” and less gushy. He brings me coffee, feeds me, gives me quick-but-effective shoulder rubs (love those!). What I lack in roses and poetry and pretty words, he more than makes up for in acts of service. Yet I still have to remind myself sometimes, when I’m feeling emotionally raw, that he’s got both feet in the boat, even if I don’t always think so. If he thought about these things as deeply as I do, which he totally doesn’t because, you know, a dude, and dudes aren’t always that complicated, I imagine he’d recognize the ways in which I show my love for him, too.

If your love language is having your honey spend time with you, and your honey seems to have all the time in the world for his job, his friends, his hobbies, and not you, there is only one way to solve this problem, which is to explain how you feel. If you are terrified of doing this, congratulations, you’re on the right track. And I wish I could say that being vulnerable with someone automatically guarantees success. It doesn’t. If nothing changes, and you’ve made it clear that things must change if you are to continue in the relationship, then you have a tough decision to make. Is this not-enoughness going to be enough for you, or are you willing to undergo a period of suffering and loss if it means maybe finding happiness with somebody else later on?

That takes a lot of courage, by the way. I did it once, and it damn near killed me. Four years I went between relationships. But I wouldn’t have met the right one for me if I’d stayed in a relationship where few, if any, of my needs were being met.

Remember your Relationship 101.

1. You’re never going to change who he is, so don’t try. Accept that what you see is what you get or move on down the road. Trying to change someone leads to gross deception, manipulation, head games, and tears. It is not the master path; it’s a one-way road to hell.

2. Be yourself. You want this person to fall in love with you, not some version of you that only exists after ten hours at the gym and a bikini wax. Be the most flavorful flavor of yourself you, he, or she can stand. That’s the only way you’ll know if this relationship is going to work: complete authenticity.

3. Manage your expectations. I don’t expect my boyfriend to talk about feelings for two hours the way I do with my girlfriends. He’s just not built that way. He’s got about forty minutes, tops, before his eyes start to glaze. I think it’s kind of cute, to tell you the truth. Few men are the verbal and/or emotional ninjas women are, but they are often really good at fixing stuff, so there’s that. Love language, remember?

Last but not least, learn how to be alone. I know this isn’t easy for most people, just as I know far too many relationships exist because neither party can stomach being alone. But here’s the deal. If you learn how to flex that independence muscle and create a rich, fulfilling life for yourself, guess what? You’ve not only made yourself more attractive, you’ve greatly lessened the odds of settling for an unsatisfactory relationship. Then the only thing that will persuade you to give up some of that intoxicating freedom is being with the right one, not anyone. It’s the greatest gift you can give yourself and yes, possibly the world. Some will have to work at it harder than others. I fully recognize this. Solitude comes easily to this introvert; less easily to people who actually like parties.

No one is born knowing how to have a healthy relationship. This knowledge is learned and earned. How badly do you want it? Are you willing to be vulnerable, honest, and authentic? Are you capable of saying you’re sorry if you’ve done something that’s not okay? Are you capable of fixing yourself so you’re actually able to have a functional relationship?

What have you learned about love so far? I want to hear from you! Feel free to comment below.