We live in an age of intolerance.
From politics to food, we notice radical attitudes and rigid rules that bring resentment. We want everything and we want nothing. We dream the fantasy and we live in hell—self-imposed, self-oriented, and self-induced. And today, being a romantic means being a fool.
There are nice people we say come last. They fall short, get used and abused, cheated on, and dumped like a garbage. In a world like that, why would anyone be romantic and have high ideals concerning love? It obviously doesn’t benefit anyone to open their hearts to someone they feel could be “the one.”
Psychologists claim that when we choose our life partners, we subconsciously choose those people we know will make us suffer in one form or another. We practically sabotage the good relationships because we aren’t used to be treated well. It dates from the earliest age of our emotional development and lasts until the day we die. Few of us will go through an introspection, or consult an expert to find out why they are following a certain pattern when it comes to their emotional choices.
For a couple of months, I have worked with a friend who is a clinical psychologist and practices regressive hypnosis. And we found out that I had the opposite issue.
I was too loved as a child and too protected. I felt suffocated and overwhelmed by so much attention and affection. Apparently, this is why I chose a partner who needed to be fixed because he wasn’t emotionally evolved. Instead of fixing someone I didn’t know I wanted to fix, I ended up fixing my high blood pressure caused by emotional instability of the relationship I was involved in. I fell for a romance with an intolerant person and hoped that my love for him would miraculously convert him to Romeo. I failed.
I guess us, women, are responsible for bringing emotionally unavailable men around us. Mothers who are raising their sons have a different approach to them compared to their daughters. We don’t notice it, but we start hugging male children less from the age of five in order to prepare them for manhood. We tell them we love them less frequently as compared to how much we say it to our female children. If they cry, we tell them not to cry like girls. If they complain, we tell them to suck it up. When they fail in sport, we call them losers. If their feminine side is more developed, we push them to become boys and be more like their fathers.
Do we create men we won’t know what to do with when they come to a certain age? Shall we have 40 years old men who just want to be cherished, loved, and accepted by their partners we are going to call overgrown male babies? And we will mock them because they are too nice or not men enough as they exhibited the more gentle sides of their personalities?
Telling how we really feel is a luxury. To be genuine is extravagance as well. Men today don’t have that luxury. But for the women, it is completely acceptable to verbalize their feelings and openly show them. Why do we complain when we don’t find a man who is chivalrous? How can they be honorable, respectful, thoughtful, considerate, protective, and attentive to us if they don’t trust we accept them for what they are (and not only for what they own)? If a man has to fake his real character with every woman he is with, how can we possibly expect grand romantic gestures from him?
An old song from the 80s comes to my mind that says, “I see your true colors shining through, I see your true colors and that’s why I love you.”
It’s a simple tautology that we rarely implement in our lives. Love is never about changing. It is about improving the imperfect self. When we are loved for being who we are, we want to be better, we want to do things for our beloved ones without them asking for anything. We are happy to serve them because our appreciation and acceptance bring the best out of us.
Saying the words “I love you” is easy, everybody can do it. But what comes after the words are spoken is difficult. Actions count—persistence, dedication, commitment, understanding, and support. Words fly. Words lose meaning if told a lot. Words are cheap. In a mediocre emotional reality, love doesn’t have to be something merely tolerable. It is the only refuge that we can create according to our needs. Let us not escape from it.
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Author: Tatjana Ostojic
Image: The Notebook (2004)
Editor: Angel Lebailly
Copy & social editor: Sara Kärpänen
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