So many women in my life are having "boy issues". Even I'm having "boy issues" without any dude in the equation. It's more like a constant avoidance of dudes because I can't even control how I react around them.
Why do we do this to ourselves? It's like we relish the pain that accompanies unrequited love. My best friend, Leah, only goes after guys who aren't interested in her. But once they smile and ask her for a coffee, she runs in the opposite direction.
I noticed I do this, too. "Birds of a feather flock together," right? I think this applies to friendships as well.
It makes me wonder what on Earth our parents did to us that made us so avoidant. Boundary Dissolution. It's a thing, yo.
According to social psychology, Eastern Asian cultures view love in a way that is beautifully tragic and only seen in movies like the ending of "Moulin Rouge." Generally, their view of love is first and foremost seen as "painful." "Memoirs of a Geisha" makes so much more sense now.
This is incredibly different than the more "excited" notion that American society likes to render in our Hollywood films. Love in America is fast-paced, it's passionate, and it's always novel.
Nothing can be further from the truth, and yet we keep posing it this way. Perhaps we are a bunch of optimists that would prefer to hope for this "destiny" view, but it's definitely a major let-down when you enter junior high and spend hours pining after a boy who doesn't love you.
It's actually hilarious and so, so tragic.
Love is exciting, and it's also pain, but it's also monotonous and somehow there are people who lead exciting love-lives after being married for 40 years.
But I also have this American upbringing that I can't seem to escape from and so I like to envision love as a plethora of other things. Things my parents didn't exactly model for me, but what I have seen in relationships I idolized around me.
Love is when there are three screaming children in a family van that's leaving an already exhausting week-long camp, and one significant other starts to get an attitude and the other responds, "Hey honey, are you getting a little snarky with me?" And the other goes, "Yes, I am." Because teamwork is a thing and so is communication and trying to sweep feelings and behaviors under the rug as if they don't exist is constipating and uncomfortable.
Love is when you notice that your partner has had a long day and you sit down next to them and massage their smelly feet.
OR
Love can also be letting that partner have time alone without feeling jealousy or FOMO.
Love is waking up next to your cancer-ridden partner whose morning breath smells like death and still loving them.
Love requires both parties to be motivated and mature.
Love is difficult because everyone has baggage and insecurities and these can weigh down a relationship over time. Love is working through them by acknowledging the others' insecurities as they are and not making the partner feel bad about them.
Love is changing the stupid diaper or offering to do the dishes because Love is a service for the other. It's not a take-take situation.
Love is letting go, lifting the talons of jealous from their back and learning to trust.
Love is learning to love yourself before loving another human.
Love is overrated.
It's synonymous with hearts and "lurrrrve" and giddy feelings that last no longer than 6 months (usually). We should be calling it what Carl Rogers penned as the way therapists treat their patients: Unconditional Positive Regard. Even when you hate this person in the moment, you somehow manage to overcome that annoyance and steadfastly trust that this person is your confidant.
It's serious teamwork and I can't say that enough.
Love is lost on me, right now. All I can muster up are snippets from aunts and uncles and textbook relationship advice.
I have no idea how to end this blog post on a positive note, so I won't.
Except for one time I saw a documentary about our brains on "love", and the chemicals that make up this feeling. Some people argue that this ruins the nebulous philosophy of "love" as if it is another entity altogether, but I think viewing "love" as a cognition cements its importance to humanity and especially to me. If "love" is a concoction created by glands and supported through networks of cells that make up one organ, I mean, THAT is the essence of God, in my opinion.
Anyways, researchers in this documentary tested different "love" levels by putting participants through an MRI machine while they thought of their significant other.
You know who had the strongest "love" chemicals?
One was a couple that had been together for 40 years, had separated and reunited, somehow, amidst the incredible amount of divorces that make up our American culture. (Not saying divorce is bad, but out divorce rate is a staggering 1 in 2 relationships)!
The other highest "love" chemical came from a twelve year old boy, thinking about his newborn niece.
And that's what I want to highlight.
Twelve years old, man.
