Sep 09 2006
My Definition Of Love
Imagine being asked, “What is love? Have you ever experienced your definition of love?” by someone you don’t know, via email, within the context of an online dating service.
I was very impressed by this question. I also felt like a deer in the headlights. While I could bring to bear the full power of Google to answer the first question, I realized that I already had the answer within me. I wrote from the heart, in about 10 minutes, my definition of love:
I believe that love is acceptance of another, it is the placing of another’s needs before your own. It is a trust and belief in the person you love and the desire for them to attain their dreams. Acceptance is not blind, you see the flaws and either cherish them or help with changing them if that is what the other person wants. When placing another’s needs before your own, this is done only if in doing so you are not lessened, because the more capable you are, the better you can support your partner. Trust and belief in each other keep a relationship together - as soon as you doubt, love starts to die. Love is respect for each other. Love is not need. Love is not power. I realize that nothing I’ve written so far is specific to romantic love. What makes love a romantic love is that when you are with your love, you both feel uplifted and exalted in some way. Or to put it plainly, you feel happier with them than without.
Well what is the opposite of Love? I live my life by the wise observations of Fyodor Dostoyevski. I keep a copy of Brothers Karamozov on my nightstand for reference. Fyodor hated mushy stuff, and he was anti-romantic. So the opposite of Love would be Indifference, as Smerdyokov observes to Raskolnikov. The crowd in Crime and Punishment are all guys, all riddled with regrets and basically terrified all of the time. If there had been the soothing presence of some women in it, there would have been less fear, more feeling, and less regrets. I think it’s fear.
I haven’t read the works of Dosteyevski - yet! But I agree with you and Smerdyokov that Indifference is the opposite of Love. Most people would think that the opposite of love is hate. However, both love and hate are passions; emotions that people feel strongly. Love and hatred are joined.
Indifference is a lack of feeling for another. So if Love is feel and passion, then it’s opposite would be a lack of feeling, a lack of passion. Therefore, Indifference is the opposite of love.
Recall the famous quote by William Congreve:
“Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned. ”
Love to hatred turned…
I think you hit home in your definition of love, I also like that it is in your heart, it tells me a great deal about you.
I think you have defined a loving relationship, it is a wonderful definition of an intimate partnership love, a marriage, a committed relationship, a joint adventure. You mentioned doubt, and how it kills love. I think that you talking about risk as well. You have to be willing to risk yourself, lower your defenses.
I am definitely no expert, and I have made my share of mistakes in love, and what comes with it.
Is there just one type of love? Or is love the same with different variations, and levels?
I have been fortunate to experience many expressions, levels, and variations of what I would call love. I have enjoyed, learned, and grown from each one. Each one is a risk, a journey, and something filled with joy and pain. It would be interesting to explore other types of love.
The love I have for my 2 year old son, probably the most unconditional kind, no divorce, built on need at first, placing needs in front of my own is often one sided, yet is very strong.
The love for family. My mother would often say, “you would probably never find and make friends with the people in your family, but you would still give all you had for them.” Again, does this come out of need, and develop into something stronger?
The love of a friend, The love of your job, The love of mornings…… I ramble too much.
Thanks again for your writings, they are thought provoking, interesting, and qmusing. Keep them coming.
Hi, Kkewl: I’m glad you like what is in my heart.
I didn’t mention risk in my definition of love, but I agree with you, I think you need to be willing to risk yourself and lower your defenses. Hmm….I feel a full-blown blog coming on.
I am working on my own defense mechanisms. I am sure they are there, many little landmines just waiting for some poor unsuspecting male! What I hope is that when I meet someone, I will be willing to risk myself.
People have told me that I am picky when it comes to men and that my pickiness is some form of defense. I don’t think so, but I know that a lot of weird stuff goes on in my head and thinking I have my sh*t together could be a symptom of whatever DSM-IV (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fourth Edition) classification I have.
However, I feel very little fear about telling a man I love him. Granted, I haven’t been in love in many years, but the more I’ve thought about relationships, love and what I have dealt with (all my many issues), the less afraid I feel. What I react to more is how a man is feeling. That is, is he uncomfortable? Does my honesty and openness threaten him in some way? When I feel this is the case, I try to disengage. That is, I know that if I am true to myself and respectful, then whatever he is going through has nothing to do with me, and everything to do with his issues.
I think that there are many different kinds of love. The love I feel for my family is different than the love I feel for my friends. I think you are lucky to experience an unconditional love for your son. I’ve heard many parents tell me this.
When it comes to family, I think that love (child to parent) begins from need. Sometimes it’s all about need and never grows into anything more. The motivations for someone giving their all for their family may not be based on love at all.
I hope to keep writing. Writing gives me great joy. I have more ideas than time at this point. Thanks for the encouragement.
This is a very deep question with broad meanings, varying levels, and different interpretations. After defining love, it would also be interesting to honestly list the top 10 (or more) people/places/things we love. How often do we really put it in that kind of a format and make it the basis of our decisions?
[...] Ms. Q presents My Definition Of Love posted at QMusings saying, “Sometimes you are asked a question you have never asked yourself. I believe this is one of the questions you should know the answer to.” [...]
Hi, Andy - your suggestion to make a list about what we love is an excellent one. Making lists causes us to organize our thoughts and it’s a great way to gain clarity about any number of things. Hmm..I feel a blog coming on!
Awesome. I sooo agree!!!
(boy, that was a short comment)
Hello MsQ!!
Speedy! Short and sweet. Much like yourself. Except for the short part.
Love, I believe, is more than anything that has been written so far, not meaning to offend.
I am not a romantic, but being a person in love, I will simply attempt to describe what it is I feel.
A deep, morose feeling when I do not see him, even if it is only a matter of moments apart.
I feel melancholy at this moment, simply because he is not here.
He asks me constantly for reassurance, I will say “I love you,” and it is forever, “Really?,” and “Do you mean it?”
It is hard for a person to believe they are worthy of love.
Love is an uplifting of the spirit, a freedom from captivity.
A savior from the impending darkness.
It is the only reason I continue to breathe.
I live only because I love.
Although he tells me he does not lve me back, and disbelieves every word of love I whisper, I allow him to use me, to hurt me.
I cannot possibly refuse.
But I refrain from asking him for anything, because his happiness I place above my own, his smile is wortjh infinite tears cried by me.
I cannot be remotely joyful if he is slightly discontent.
My happiness depends entirely on his.
He offers, although he says he does not love me, to stay with me all the same, just for my happiness.
This keeps me going, because I believe that is love.
The sacrifice of onceself for the happiness of the other.
The unwillingness to exist except for the fact that my deparure would cause him sadness, and I cannot bear to even think of him unhappily.
Even looking at his face makes my heart soar, far higher than I could ever reach, to the point where it feels as though it will burst.
My only happiness is placed within his arms, my only accesswhen they are wrapped around me.