Some say love is a feeling, some say it’s a verb, others say it can’t be defined. But oh yes it can. And it’s all up to you.
We are all wired differently, and it is important to find a mate who is compatible and has a compatible view of love. But defining love is mercurial at best.
A friend of mine says her lover must treasure her. He must know how she takes her coffee, know her favorite color, and bring her flowers. He must put her before all else, treat her like a princess. He must be a gentleman, gallant and strong, presumably to make her feel protected and cherished. All these things are wonderful. It’s not my paradigm at all.
I have another friend who doesn’t care a lick about any of those things. He wants a mate whom he can trust and who will keep the very few dark secrets he chooses to share. He wants someone he can be himself with and whom he can call on exclusively to bounce his complex and sometimes controversial ideas off of and who will give him full acceptance. This is his perfect definition of love, but not mine.
Another friend says love is actions. You must have the desire to be around the person and you must show that desire in selfless acts and through service. Love languages aside, I get what she’s saying, but I see this as a manifestation of love, not a definition.
In many places in the world, arranged marriages are still a thing. People get married and eventually learn to love each other because they have made the commitment to. They decide to, and so they do.
I have read blogs that define love in myriad ways. Your partner must be thoughtful, selfless, affectionate, make you feel cherished, surprising you with gifts and sweet nothings. You should not be able to live without them. They must complete you. Ugh. Also not wrong, but definitely not me.
These are perfectly legitimate ways to define love. They are just not at all the ways that I define it.
I learned a lesson about love recently. I had a partner that I had amazing compatibility with. We had the same sense of humor, same relationship paradigm, lots of great chemistry, but I wasn’t sure it was love. Our relationship didn’t fit the typical model, so I questioned its authenticity. It felt really great to be with him, but how did I know that feeling was real? Feelings are unpredictable after all – they come and go and change with the wind. I broke up with him after two years over a rather minute thing because I listened to others’ definitions of love.
I was pretty sure it would be easy to move on. It wasn’t. I hated every minute of the year he didn’t speak to me. But it was in that year that I figured out what love is to me.
My love will be built around the person himself: He must be industrious and productive. He must be inquisitive and curious. He must be a little bit cynical and a little bit optimistic. He must be authentic and interesting.
But my love is also built on the shared paradigm of the relationship. While he enjoys my company and prefers me over all others, he should want to have his own very individual life without need of me. He should have his own interests and plans and schemes for the future.
I don’t want to be one with my partner. I want to be myself and I want him to be himself. I have my future goals and I don’t want to sacrifice them for my partner. And I would rather die than have him sacrifice his goals and hopes and dreams to be in a relationship with me.
I prefer a long-term, monogamous relationship with someone with whom I don’t have to share everything. But I definitely want to share some things, maybe a common goal or a hobby.
I found all this out when I broke up with my significant other. For too long I listened to what others said love should look like. I found that love is what I want it to be, what works for me and my partner. Ultimately what works for you individually and what fills your specific needs is the right definition for you.
The trick is finding someone who shares your vision.