Week Twenty-One: Love is a Doing Verb
"Love, love is a verb. Love is a doing word"
Firstly and most importantly, it's worth mentioning that I'm sorry this is so late. It is not an understatement to say that this week has been incredibly, incredibly busy. Between preparing for the trip, work being all manner of chaos, and preparing for my move next weekend (finally!), this mini vacation could not have come sooner. That being said, I am currently sitting in a hotel room with Isabelle curled up at my feet, a cold air conditioner protecting me from the unbearably hot Kansas humidity, and watching a movie in the background with a mere three hours drive left to my destination. Life is good.
Let's talk about love.
Let's talk about love.
As mentioned in the above named lyric, from the brilliant song (which you may recognize as the theme song from "House"), "Teardrop" by Massive Attack, love is something that you do. It's something that you give to someone else--whether that's time, affection, words, actions. Action is the heart of how we love other people.
There's a book called "The 5 Love Languages" by Gary Chapman that talks about this idea of the ways in which we communicate love to other people. Though the book is rooted in setting a foundation for using these tools to be used in a heteronormative, monogamous setting, I find that its principles can be applied to any relationship - platonic, romantic, professional.
I want to talk about one love language in particular: acts of service.
This week, which has been so full of stuff, has also left me feeling an abundant amount of gratitude for the people in my life. More than once, when I was stressed or overwhelmed or tired, the people in my corner came to my rescue - not because I asked them to but because that's how you love people; you do for them not out of necessity or obligation but out of love. It's just the right thing to do. Earlier in the week, I managed to not only find a gorgeous mid-century modern couch on Facebook Marketplace (this was actually thanks to my mother; she has not only a keen eye but an understanding of my taste); it was also the case that a co-worker who was retiring generously offered his queen sized bed for my new apartment knowing that I needed one. On top of all the other things I had to get done this week, my mom, who works so tirelessly and often without complaint, showed up to help me get both of these items and bring them to my new apartment.
It's been my experience that much like most of life, half of the battle is just showing up. The people who are worth your time are the ones who arrive when its necessary. They're the ones who recognize when you need help, who give without asking in return, and who see what it is that you need maybe even before you do.
Armed with this knowledge, I think it's also important to recognize when you're not being loved well by people who don't deserve your time.
It's no secret that I've been having some family trouble, most specifically with my step-dad. His drinking problem has been a thorn in my family's side for nearly two decades and the problem has only gotten worse in recent years. After a conversation that I had with my mom sometime this last month, I realized that I've come to terms with having a family member who doesn't love me. Mom tells me otherwise, that Dad says that he loves me (to her; he hasn't spoken to me since February), but as evidenced by the other people in my life, love is rooted in action. You show up for the people that you love, whether that means helping them move some furniture or taking work off their plate when they have a thousand things to do and no time to do them.
Love doesn't look like not speaking to someone in months. Love looks like communication and compromise and action.
Though it saddens me, I choose not to let this sadness overwhelm me because I have so much love in my life elsewhere - from my co workers to my friends to my remaining family. I am not without. There has never been and never will be a time in my life where I believe in sticking with someone out of obligation and this situation is no different. Somewhere deep in his belly, I'm sure my step-dad thinks he loves me but at the end of the day, he loves his addiction more and I don't have the space in my life for that kind of energy, for that kind of hurt. It's not worth my time.
With all that said, as beautiful and heavy and big as it is, I'll always choose love, even if that means letting someone go. Until next week.
Side note: with being out of town this weekend and moving into my new apartment next weekend, there may be a brief hiatus! Stay tuned.
I want to talk about one love language in particular: acts of service.
This week, which has been so full of stuff, has also left me feeling an abundant amount of gratitude for the people in my life. More than once, when I was stressed or overwhelmed or tired, the people in my corner came to my rescue - not because I asked them to but because that's how you love people; you do for them not out of necessity or obligation but out of love. It's just the right thing to do. Earlier in the week, I managed to not only find a gorgeous mid-century modern couch on Facebook Marketplace (this was actually thanks to my mother; she has not only a keen eye but an understanding of my taste); it was also the case that a co-worker who was retiring generously offered his queen sized bed for my new apartment knowing that I needed one. On top of all the other things I had to get done this week, my mom, who works so tirelessly and often without complaint, showed up to help me get both of these items and bring them to my new apartment.
It's been my experience that much like most of life, half of the battle is just showing up. The people who are worth your time are the ones who arrive when its necessary. They're the ones who recognize when you need help, who give without asking in return, and who see what it is that you need maybe even before you do.
Armed with this knowledge, I think it's also important to recognize when you're not being loved well by people who don't deserve your time.
It's no secret that I've been having some family trouble, most specifically with my step-dad. His drinking problem has been a thorn in my family's side for nearly two decades and the problem has only gotten worse in recent years. After a conversation that I had with my mom sometime this last month, I realized that I've come to terms with having a family member who doesn't love me. Mom tells me otherwise, that Dad says that he loves me (to her; he hasn't spoken to me since February), but as evidenced by the other people in my life, love is rooted in action. You show up for the people that you love, whether that means helping them move some furniture or taking work off their plate when they have a thousand things to do and no time to do them.
Love doesn't look like not speaking to someone in months. Love looks like communication and compromise and action.
Though it saddens me, I choose not to let this sadness overwhelm me because I have so much love in my life elsewhere - from my co workers to my friends to my remaining family. I am not without. There has never been and never will be a time in my life where I believe in sticking with someone out of obligation and this situation is no different. Somewhere deep in his belly, I'm sure my step-dad thinks he loves me but at the end of the day, he loves his addiction more and I don't have the space in my life for that kind of energy, for that kind of hurt. It's not worth my time.
With all that said, as beautiful and heavy and big as it is, I'll always choose love, even if that means letting someone go. Until next week.
Side note: with being out of town this weekend and moving into my new apartment next weekend, there may be a brief hiatus! Stay tuned.
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