Learning to Love

As a little girl, I don’t remember hearing “I love you” or getting hugs and kisses from my mom. As an adult, I know my mom loved me. As a mother, I know kids need to hear it often even if they don’t reciprocate it and they’re in the phase of calling you “bruh” or “dude.”

I think my mom viewed love as being provided for. She grew up in a poor, black, military family in the 50s and 60s, struggling to make ends meet. I remember my mom telling me stories of getting “one” Christmas present (I think it was a towel or something) and how she never wanted that for us. Mom experienced other trauma and abuse that contributed to her working very hard and finding value in her career and accomplishments. She was a registered nurse and also got her master’s degree in social work.

Most of my growing up years, my mom had two jobs. She typically worked seven days a week and I longed for her to show up at my games or attend school events, like the other parents. We had a live-in nanny who I loved, Alice. But before Alice, we had many babysitters and nannies, often hired from a newspaper ad or referral. I remember feeling vulnerable and clingy. My mom was trying to provide for us and give us a better life than she had, like most parents do. After work, my mom would make herself dinner and go to her room to watch TV. I would often follow her and snuggle up just to be close to her (also how I developed a love for crime and action movies).

When I would stay over at a friend’s house, I would see what normal family interaction looked like. I would have gladly embraced the structure, rules, chores, and even being grounded. I felt like I wasn’t raised but just kind of grew up (also how I developed control issues).

My mother was often overwhelmed and anxious. I was an anxious/ambivalent child.

There was a void I tried to fill. Kelly McDaniel calls this “Mother Hunger.”

I tried to fill this void with food and pleasing people. It was never enough.

I craved and feared love. As soon as it could get close, I would self-sabotage the relationship. I didn’t realize I was doing this until years later, when I did my recovery work. I was not familiar or comfortable with giving hugs, kisses, or saying “I love you.”

I was very confused about what love was. I searched for “love” in all of the wrong places. 

Any guy who showed me attention would completely occupy my every thought.

Between the lack of affection in my childhood home and the physical aggression of the men I was with, being vulnerable or expressing affection became a trigger for me.

My childhood best friends were the ones who taught me how to say “I love you.” I remember being on the phone (around 12 or 13 years old) and hearing “I love you” at the end of the call. I felt surprised. My mom didn’t say “I love you” before hanging up, going to bed, before leaving…none of this. My mom was often so busy and stressed at work (being a charge nurse) that she would often just hang up when the conversation was done. A bad habit I ended up repeating and having to break as an adult. My friends continued to tell me they loved me when we would end a call or end our weekends together. It didn’t feel natural to tell them I loved them although I did. I loved my friends and cherished every moment with them. After a while, it did feel natural to let them know I loved them. We became like sisters and still are, 25 years later. 

Now about my actual sisters…I love them too but because we didn’t grow up expressing affection or love to each other, I had to learn how to tell them I loved them too. NONE of this “learning” felt comfortable. 

When I was dating my husband, he told me he loved me after three weeks. I WAS pretty loveable and I KNEW I was going to marry him after our first date, but expressing this was terrifying. I had to practice showing my love for many years. In some areas, I’m still practicing. My protective guard can spring up at the first INKLING of danger.

I would imagine myself saying “I love you” and giving my husband or kids a big hug and kiss when they walked through the door; but when they actually got home, I would be in the middle of some anxiety-ridden thought and not able to relax enough to be vulnerable.

Making eye contact likely would have thrown me over the edge. I wanted to be a good wife and mom, a loving and nurturing wife and mom, but when it came time to express my love, I just couldn’t do it. 

One day, I decided that it was my own stress and trauma keeping me stuck and unable to express the love I felt for my family. I would tell them “I love you” as they left for work or school or before bed but that was it. It felt very scripted and inorganic and I couldn’t break out of the rut.

I started setting timers to go off at random times during the day. I would pause, go find my twins, and tell them I loved them. They must have been around seven years old. After a few weeks, it began to feel natural and the stress and anxiety I felt when my family walked in went away! I remember the day I felt joy when they walked into the room. I thanked God that I was able to reverse the trigger I felt when my family walked in. I loved my twins more than anything and was so thankful to finally feel it and be able to express it. 

Just when I thought it was safe to come out of my fortress, BETRAYAL! Discovering Jon’s addiction ripped away from me everything I thought I had and knew. I felt scared. I couldn’t trust anyone. There was no such thing as genuine love. All of my suspicions and insecurities regarding love were true. You can’t open up to people because they will hurt you. 

God took me on a several months long journey through a deep valley and showed me that He is trustworthy. He has always loved me. He created me uniquely, and I can love people who are going to hurt me the way He has always loved me even when I was doing things that hurt Him. The time I spent with the Lord during this time is its own story. It’s where I truly learned how much my heavenly Father loves me and I wouldn’t trade this time for anything.

Now, I have a more realistic view of love. People will hurt me, I will hurt people.

People are not perfect AND we love them anyway. It’s hard.

It doesn’t mean we don’t have boundaries, but now I give people permission to come off the pedestal I put them on. 

I have realistic expectations and an understanding that people can only love in the way they know how. It’s freeing.

I have two kids, younger than the twins, who will randomly yell, “I LOVE YOU, MOM” from across the house. It feels good to know that I was able to learn how to love and make it different for my own family. I get to choose to do things differently for my family of origin and you can too.

Tell someone you love them today.

The views, opinions, and ideas expressed in this blog are those of the author alone and do not reflect an official position of Pure Desire Ministries, except where expressly stated.