"Sometimes love means letting go."

 I'm jumping into the middle of this topic with this blog, so you'll be getting my thoughts about it from today forward.

I think and read a lot about love.

What is it? What does it look like? What does it feel like? How do I know it when I see it? Is the way I love healthy? What does it have to do with being needed or needy? Do I love enough? Do I love too much? How can I do it better? and on and on and on...

Some basic things I've learned about love are: 1) It's complicated, 2) It's messy, 3) It's necessary, 4) It hurts, 5) It's worth it.

The phrase that keeps coming into my head today is: Sometimes love means letting go.

Whoa. What does this mean, and why am I thinking it? As usual, it's very complicated. Letting go of what? People? Feelings? Thoughts? Habits? Patterns? Expectations? The past?

The answer, very simply is: Yes.

I have five kids, two parents, two grandparents, two siblings, a partner, some former partners, a few close, long-term friends, a lot of other friends, and a large extended family, all of whom I love or have loved at some point in my life. When I make that list, I think, "Goodness gracious! Of course that would be messy!"  That's a lot of people to keep track of and bonds of attachment to cultivate.

I see so much hope and heartache in that list, and thus, the letting go.

A few times in my life, I've had people say to me, "Love should come easy", "Love shouldn't hurt," or "Love should feel good." While there are moments these things are true, to these people I would say, "Have you never:
         had a loved one be diagnosed with a degenerative disease,
         had a family member with a mental illness or addiction,
         watched a loved one die,
         made a choice for which someone you loved couldn't forgive you,
          learned someone you loved had hurt or abused someone else,
          had someone decide you weren't the love of their life and walk away,
           given up on fighting for what you thought was right, so your loved ones    
 could have what they wanted,
           or seen in the face of your loved one the weight of your words as you                                                           disagreed?

In other words, "Have you never REALLY loved?"

The first thing I have let go of is the idea that love is a happy, joyful, peaceful, calm, exhilarating, romantic experience. Sometimes, it is. If it always is, I worry, because life includes all those things listed above and so many more changes, disappointments, conflicts and losses. If we aren't sharing those things with the people who are closest to us, how can we really be fully seen and loved? Love is very ironically full of heartbreak and loss.

The second thing I repeatedly have to let go of is the idea that the people I love will always love me in return or in a way that meets my needs. Love to them may involve constantly causing drama, trying to elicit big reactions or playing games of push and pull. Maybe they are incapable of bonding for some neurological reason. Maybe they want to exist in a very small emotional band or won't accept me the way I am. I won't go so far as to say what they are experiencing is not love, but I will say, it is hard for me to feel loved in these situations.

The third thing I have let go of is the idea that I will always want to be with or around the people I love. Maybe the reality of the hurt in the relationship feels too great to overcome or to be near. Maybe the shame someone feels about their past actions is too close to the surface when they are around me. Maybe their actions make me feel unsafe. Do I not love them, even though I choose to keep my distance? No. I miss them. I worry about them. I think nostalgically about the good things about them, and I pray for the fulfillment of their dreams.

The fourth thing I have let go of is that love means sacrificing my own needs to put others first. Some of this probably stems from enculturation for my gender, and some is from my religion of origin. I was raised to believe that love always gives and never takes, and it never focuses on the self. I suppose many of my childhood experiences also suggested to me that I was unworthy of love. In any case, self love and self care were negative concepts in my upbringing, often given names like "selfishness" and "self-indulgence." Kindness and service to others with little thought of one's own needs was called "love."

What I have learned is that we do not have the physical or emotional strength to offer support or assistance to others, if we do not stay in touch with our own source and give ourselves love. To me this means, at the very least, looking myself in the eye each day and saying, "I love you," eating good food and getting fresh air and exercise in nature. Some days, it may mean spending the entire day in spiritual practice, church and yoga classes to give me the spiritual strength to parent for one more week. It means knowing I am a deep feeler, and I need to give myself time and space to fully experience and be with my emotions, even if others are trying to rush me to some sort of resolution.

So, does this make love a big downer? What about this is worth it? To me, it's the beauty of those moments when a loved one smiles, says something brilliant, stands up for their values, faces their fears to move closer to a dream, stands accountable for their actions or learns to forgive themselves. It's memories of walks in the woods, caroles sung for neighbors, hugs and tears, songs of comfort, moments of connection, celebrations of accomplishments and support during hardship.

Really loving means showing up with all of the things that make us ourselves and authentically, open-heartedly sharing that with the people who are on this journey with us.