S suggested I read "The Five Love Languages." So, I considered it. Two days later, I came across something else about reading it. At that point, I decided that I needed to find a copy and get to reading. I read four chapters the first day I had the book, but slowed some and spent the next two weeks reading through it. I also took the quiz on the website. I didn't think the quiz in the book itself was best suited for me, so I appreciated having the website to visit and explore.
At first I wonderd if I picked up the right book...for me. It definitely is geared toward married couples, and I am no longer part of a married couple, nor any couple for that matter. I am single. I am divorced, in fact. Some of the things in the book were difficult to read. At times, I felt as though I needed to explain why I ended up where I did. But, I realized that I do not need to explain anything to anyone. It was just me and the book. I was not fighting for my marriage. I had spent years fighting for a marriage that I've come to realize never had the elements described in this book. However, I can learn my love language and I can explore the love languages of my children. I can also use this as time moves on, especially in the event God blesses me with companionship.
For now, though, it was just something I needed to read. And read I did.
I now know my primary love language and it does not surprise me in the least. Quality time.
Whether you read the book or not, you can take an assessment on the website and discover your primary love language here: http://www.5lovelanguages.com/assessments/love/
Quality time is followed by words of affirmation and personal touch. None of this surprises me. I am not "bilingual," but I do recognize the importance of all three in my life. I explored these. I enjoyed reading about them and gaining more understanding. I also discovered as I read through the pages of the book that I have no idea what my former husband's love language may be. Here are some things I considered:
After I left, he complained that my lack of time at home contributed to the crumbling of our marriage. My spending more time away from home increased as our marriage struggled, but most of the time I spent away from home was spent working. I worked outside jobs to support the family and the business we had together. I was the only one going out and doing things for our business. I felt that was what needed to be done as I did not have a whole partner in any of it. I enjoyed going and doing things and he did not. If quality time was his primary love language, why would he not do more with me? Opportunity was there. He did not take it. So, I don't think that's it. I spent more and more time doing things on my own and with the children because he chose to not participate. Period. He found different excuses to not do this, that, or the other thing. So be it. There is still life to be lived. I went and lived it and when I discovered I was being held back emotionally and mentally, I did what needed to be done. At the end, I discovered that the twitch in my face was always worse at home. Guess where I didn't want to be? (That twitch drove me crazy for the last two months I was in the home.)
Come Christmas, his birthday, Father's Day, or any random holiday for that matter, he would always start talking about gifts. He had lists. He knew what he wanted and he told people what to buy for him. He did not seem to appreciate every gift he was given, but he loved to receive things that he had asked for. This, to me, rules out gifts as a love language. According to Dr. Chapman, someone whose love language is gifts appreciates every single thing they are given. This includes homemade gifts, the gift of time, the gift of conversation, hugs, support, etc. Those sorts of things were rarely appreciated. If they were appreciated, I sure did not get a sense that they were. Father's Day approached just before I left. I had started projects with the kids. Money was not something we had. But we could make time and we had creativity. In that crazy June, my ex told me what he wanted us to buy him for Father's Day. This was not uncommon. We would go shopping at a thrift store for clothes and he would wander off to find something else to spend money on...for himself. He was always on the quest for some purchase. Not gifts, but purchases. If spending money was a love language, this might fit. However, gifts does not.
Words of Affirmation was one I seriously considered. And then, I ruled it out as well. You see, I was accused of not supporting him enough. I was accused of not having enough faith in him. I was accused of being selfish. I regularly did everything I could to try to encourage him, rather that discourage him. I attempted to say things positively rather than in a nagging manner. I did not want to nag him. I walked on egg shells for years, afraid to say things. I never knew how he would react. When he wanted to explore his art as a means of making money and he had recently accused me of not believing in him, I started an art show so he could showcase and sell his art. I helped him buy the supplies he needed for painting. I gave him time and space to paint. I gave him words of encouragement. Truly, I believe I implemented all five of the love languages in an effort to show my love and support for him and his dreams. Over time, I put more and more effort into the art shows and he put less and less effort into the art. Again, he had all kinds of excuses. One painting remained unfinished for FOUR YEARS! He never completed a mural project that he had been contracted for with a local business, a contract I helped him get and start. There comes a time when one realizes that words are either falling on deaf ears or they are just not the right words. Already choosing my words very carefully, I had no idea what to do. Yet, I continued to approach him with love and care and support. It just didn't seem to work.
I spent the entirety of our marriage devoting time to acts of service. I did the yard work, I washed dishes (or they didn't get washed), I did all laundry except his (which I was not allowed to do since I didn't do laundry "the right way"), I cleaned (or things didn't get clean), I poured my heart and soul into doing anything and everything I could for our babies (even rinsing stacks of cloth diapers after returning home from work because they had not been rinsed all day). I worked inside and outside the home. I busted my ass. And this is as it always was. I worked damn hard to keep our family going. When he was down with some health issues, I took on all of the dinner cooking as well. Before that I had started working with meal planning so that our weeks would run more smoothly. I'm not sure what more I could have done in the way of acts of service. And knowing this, I almost had to laugh even considering this as a possible love language for him. I am surprised that it did not rank higher for me. I would have loved to have come home to a clean house, a mowed lawn, or clean laundry. It just didn't happen. I don't mind doing these things. In fact, to some degree I enjoy them. I actually love cooking again! For a long time, I did not. But, no....this was definitely not his love language, primary or otherwise.
Dr, Chapman suggests to look at what your spouse complains about most for clues to primary love language. When my ex complained loudly, I have to say it was mostly about sex. Or lack thereof. Yet, there were really strict conditions set. And, I hesitate to think personal touch is a love language for him because as Dr. Chapman describes, it can't just be about sex. He rarely, if ever, held my hand. He often chose to sit on the other side of the room from me. We almost never sat close at meals. I felt I had to ask for hugs. He was not particularly available physically unless "the mood" struck him in the middle of the night. And then it was just expected that I would be ready to go as well, regardless of how long I'd been asleep or what time I needed to get up in the morning. And, when I wasn't ready or willing then there would be an emotional toll to pay. I would get treated very poorly. He would shut down. These are the things that led me to feel coerced more than once. I even experienced him threatening his own life when he didn't feel that I had given him enough physical attention, most especially in the sexual sense. This is not ok. And this is not love.
Love is patient.
Love is kind.
Isn't that what we learn from the Bible, the Word of God?
Where was patience and kindness? Where was love?
Earlier this year, I came to the realization that I never actually knew the feeling of being in love. I hadn't experienced love. As I read through this book, it solidified that for me. I have not known romatic love. I never experienced even the beginning stages, the euphoria of the "in love" feeling that Dr. Chapman describes. I knew manipulation. I knew what I thought was love. It was not.
It is extremely difficult, if not impossible, to love someone who does not love himself.
My hope for the future is that I will one day be able to explore what love really is. True, real, romantic love. I don't completely believe that it exists, yet. I know something like it is out there. My parents have real love. My grandparents had it and it still exists even though my Nana died two-and-a-half years ago. I can see the love my granddad still has for her. It's there. It's real. Some of my friends have it. There is love. Not fairy tale love. Not country music video love. But real love. Where people can discover and explore each other's love languages. Where things aren't picture perfect, but where love remains. There is love.
"Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up; does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
...
And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love." (NKJV)
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