Power and Love

A couple of years ago I was chatting to my dad, and mentioned that there’d been a power cut in my building. I got home, and the hallways were pitch dark, and I had to fumble my way to my door, imagining murderers jumping out at me along the way (because murderers can see in the dark, apparently, which, if it were so, would make “Wait Until Dark” a very different film).

A week or two after that, I got an envelope in the post with a little torch in it (flashlight for you of the United States). My dad said he thought it would be a good idea for me to keep it in my handbag in case of future power cuts.

Tonight, I got home, and the power was out. Of course, it happened to be the one in a thousand time that I’d gone out without my purse, so I repeated the whole fumble-door-murderer-jumping experience.

It made me think of my dad, of course, and about his gift. I read “The Five Love Languages” by Gary Chapman last week, being tired of everyone on the planet knowing their love language except me. It’s an interesting read, if a little simplistic. In case you are from Pluto and haven’t read it yet, the idea is that there are five chief ways to express love, and pretty much everyone has a primary love “language.” Your options are words of affirmation (saying nice things), quality time, gifts, acts of service, and physical touch. The book is full of examples of relationships that were failing because one person kept (for example) saying sweet things to the other, because that was their own love language, and the recipient only valued quality time, so they felt unloved. In the examples, the giver started offering quality time, the recipient thus received love, and they all lived happily ever after.

I don’t mean to sound cynical, I think there’s a lot of truth to it, and if one is continuously missing out on meaningful expressions of love, it is absolutely going to cause problems.

I just think there’s a little more to it. For example, I also think the responsibility is on the recipient to learn to interpret other languages other than their primary one. Just as we don’t go to Germany and get annoyed if people there speak to us in German, we shouldn’t completely devalue other people’s expressions of love or affection.

For instance, if I’d waited around for my father to give me words of affirmation, I’d have led a very sad existence. I remember getting ready for my brother’s wedding, and saying “does this look all right” to my dad. He said, somewhat reluctantly, “well, I probably shouldn’t say so, but you look very nice.” “Er, why shouldn’t you say so?” “Well, I don’t want you getting conceited.” I’m not sure why he thought that at the age of 30 I was suddenly in danger of getting a swelled head from one compliment from my father, but I let it go.

I happen to like compliments, in general, but it wasn’t my dad’s style, and I knew it, and it was ok. I still knew he loved me, because of things like the torch. And because he’d make sure I had his AAA card if I was driving further than five miles. And because he’d fix things in my house. Or make me a drink. Or tell my aunt to mind her own business if she asked about my love life.

I also think I was fine with not getting words of affirmation from my dad, because my mum is very generous with those. If ever I’m in need of a confidence boost, she will fill that need to the point of embarrassment. She’s also more physically affectionate. And I got plenty of quality time with both. So I was fortunate in getting love in multiple ways from both of them.

Now, I think quality time is probably my primary language, but I’m greedy--I want love in all languages. I think Chapman has a great point, in encouraging us to find out what means most to the people we love. I also think he’s absolutely right in believing that most of us express one or two languages most naturally. But I also think we and our relationships can only get better if we learn to speak and interpret all love languages. I love chocolate, but I don’t want it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Well, not every DAY. I admire my friends who are more fluent in some languages than I, and like the idea of increasing fluency in all, so that I can be a veritable polyglot of love. Doesn’t that sound...lovely?