I often find myself questioning whether I’ve ever truly known love—or the value of what I bring to intimate relationships. As I experience different forms of intimacy—with partners, friends, and even family—I see how deeply personal and varied love’s definitions can be. These perceptions, I realize, are shaped by what we’ve observed growing up, just as generations before us were molded by their own eras.
In the past, relationships, especially marriages, often adhered to rigid roles. A man and woman would meet, grow fond of each other, get married, and have children. The wife stayed home, nurturing the household, while the husband ventured out to provide. Yet, this arrangement often left women bearing the brunt of sacrifice—forsaking their goals, suppressing their emotions, and neglecting their own self-care. Their needs were overshadowed by the demands of others, placed on a pedestal above their own well-being.
Men, on the other hand, were often consumed by societal expectations of masculinity—focused on financial provision and their roles as “ultimate providers.” Emotions became secondary, if acknowledged at all. This dynamic stripped relationships of depth, leaving both partners trapped in roles that lacked the reciprocity, emotional support, and spiritual connection that true love could offer.
The children who grew up in these households became silent witnesses to these incomplete templates of love. They inherited tinged expectations, often seeking relationships that mirrored the imbalance they observed. Many found themselves entangled in toxic patterns, mistaking trauma bonds for love, enduring pain in the hope that their suffering would somehow lead to fulfillment. When these bonds inevitably broke, they were left with a sense of failure—questioning their worth and whether they’d ever known love at all.
But what is love, really? How can we give or share it if we haven’t first discovered it within ourselves? At times, love feels like an empty four-letter word, but I know it holds the depth of everything I’ve experienced. I strive to find, nurture, and harness that love within myself, to fill my own cup first. Only then can the overflow nourish those I care about.
Breaking free from the patterns of past generations is no small task. It feels like laying pavement with each uncertain step, forging a path where none existed before. It’s lonely at times and tempts you to cling to what feels familiar, even when it no longer serves you. But there is power in choosing something new—something more vibrant, layered, and textured. It means creating a love that provides safety, reciprocity, and growth, not just for yourself but for those who walk the journey with you.
What do you all think?
Sincerely FR