I'm Still Not Sure I Know How to Love

My lessons in love were given with a heavy dose of pain, control, and power, what does that say about the "love" I give

Lonely Black Man

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I’m working on a few projects, so this post is a throwback from 2022. I hope you enjoy.

I have been doing a lot of self-reflection,  trying to better understand the things that drive me, and how that impacts the way I relate to the world. When I cut through the layers of ego, and willful denial, my number one motivation is love. I want to give and receive unconditional love. That love can be through kindness, gifts, adoration, or acknowledgment, it doesn’t seem to matter how I get it, as long as I do. When all is right with the world, and that love exists,  l feel stable, safe, and secure. Well, at least in the beginning I do. Unfortunately, no matter how true, or pure the love being given to me is, there comes a moment when self-doubt and paranoia takes over.

“What if this person is putting on a front? What if they’re lying, or even worse, what if they plan to take their love away? What if the ones who say they love me are being truthful, but someone is trying to change their mind? Or take them away from me?  What if I’m a fraud, and once the people in my life realize this, they will turn their backs on me? I can try to ignore the paranoia, but eventually, the whispers become frantic shouts; those shouts have the ability to destabilize me in ways that lead to poor decisions not grounded in my values. 

When the noise in my subconscious gets too loud to ignore, and I can no longer see beyond my fears, I stop navigating from a place of strength and begin to look for power. So sure, I want to be loved and I want to love, but I am also terrified of being hurt. The fear of some inevitable heartbreak is what usually leads me to find ways to protect that love at all costs, and punish those who might take it.

I guess that’s what I want to discuss today, the contradiction that is yours truly. I claim to be someone who wants nothing more than unconditional love, but when I’m backed into a wall, or feel threatened, I project insecurities that show up as control, a need to be right, and a desire for submission. Is this normal? Should the desire for this beautiful thing lead to such toxic behavior? Maybe I have it all wrong, maybe my understanding of love is a lie, maybe I don’t know how to love at all. In that case, is there anyone who truly knows what love is, or are we all taking cues from the lessons we were taught by the people closest to us?

 I was raised by an immigrant father who dropped out of school in the third grade and came to the U.S from Dominica in his early 20s. His childhood was littered with pain, and unshared traumas. He took those experiences and coping skills and then joined forces with my stepmother. Together they gave me my first lessons in love. Their love was deep, but it was fractured. It had the limitless potential that all people start with, but it was colored by pain, suffering, and the hard lessons of life. 

My father could be aloof, temperamental, and passive-aggressive, and my stepmother was loud and passionate. She was also physically and verbally abusive. They both loved me with all of their hearts. Did they try their best? Absolutely, but they couldn’t give me what they didn’t have. 

My definition and experiences of love were heavily influenced by them. I have my stepmother’s passion and my father's charm, they have served me well. They gave me the best parts of them, and I like to believe I have made them my own. I also learned their coping mechanisms. My father survived impossible circumstances, so there was never space for failure in his eyes.  If I seemed too emotional, he would chastise me, “men don’t have emotions, feelings don’t pay the bills.” If I fell short, he didn’t just express his disappointment, he would show it to me through withdrawal, whether that be communication, affection, or resources. 

 He wanted me to understand that failure was weakness, and if you are weak, “you deserve nothing.” My stepmother’s love was different, she was consistently present in my life, making sure to be there for the big and small occasions, doing the big and little things to help me. But if there was ever a moment she felt slighted or disrespected, she would respond decisively. Sometimes she would use her words to break me apart, more often than not words weren’t enough, so she would use force. 

The lessons I received in love were deeply flawed, but it’s what I had. If that’s the case, what framework have others had to work from, how are other men learning “how to love?”  As the world continues to change, and the expectations for relationships expand, I grow more concerned with the ability for other men to rise to the occasion. Like my parents, how can I, or they (men) give, receive, or ask for something we don’t truly understand? How do we even start the conversation when so many of us don’t know what it means to feel, let alone love? I don’t have answers, but I think it’s about time we all started to search for them.