An Introspective Look at Love & Self
Photo by cottonbro
You are not too much or too hard to love. You are enough.
– Alex Elle
I read these words as I aimlessly scrolled through Instagram one day and stopped. I read them over and over again. These words were exactly how I felt for a long time. I’ve always seen love, a seemingly simple four-letter word, with so many expectations and interpretations, as one of the most complicated feelings for me to express. I know I love my family and closest friends, but expressing this love has been a challenge over the years. What I’ve discerned is that it’s not that I’m too hard or too much to love, it’s that I have a difficult time communicating what I feel and as the aphorism goes, communication is the key to any successful relationship.
Expressing my innermost thoughts, desires and needs has always been my Achilles heel. Don’t get me wrong, if I want something, I know how to get it — or if I’m bothered, I can express it, but when I truly care about/love someone, sometimes it can get tricky. Is the way I’m feeling even valid? Will I hurt their feelings if I express what I need to say? How do I say what I feel without it being misunderstood or even worse, me being misunderstood? It’s a whole anxious list of questions that goes through my mind when I have to be upfront about my emotions. I tend to put the feelings and wishes of others above my own, which isn’t always a negative thing, but when done too often, it does take a toll. When this happens, I retreat into my shell and need time to recharge in order to face the world again.
“I’ve observed my behavior when it comes to love, and have concluded that I have to work on expressing myself more and acknowledge that what I need to say does matter.”
I guess you could say it’s the INFJ qualities in me (Introverted, Intuitive, Feelings and Judging) based on the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator. From what I’ve analyzed about myself and read about in the strengths of INFJs, they (we) are inclined to be reserved, but highly sensitive to how others feel. INFJs want to have strong/deep, meaningful connections with other people and enjoy helping others, as draining as it can become. As I read about the description of INFJs, the weaknesses of my type seemed to hit the nail on the head. Three specific ones I read about were 1) how overly sensitive INFJs can be, 2) how they can be too trusting of others, and 3) how they are sometimes difficult to get to know.
Reading that got me thinking about all the times I’ve been in situations where speaking up was necessary, but I chose to keep what I wanted to say to myself — or the times I could’ve shown my personality, but decided against it out of fear of judgment or of not being liked. On occasions, I've received constructive criticism from a friend or family member and I always took it to heart, beating myself up over their comments, whether they were true about me or not. Putting all that aside, I’ve been told I am someone with a reserved demeanor. I come off as “nice” or “friendly,” but the truth is, there’s an inner aspect of myself I like to keep hidden from others, probably because I’m in my head a lot habitually thinking about how to tackle future plans, the meaning of life, recapping my day and thinking of how I could’ve improved something I did or said.
Regardless of what any personality assessment calculates, I’ve observed my behavior when it comes to love, and have concluded that I have to work on expressing myself more and acknowledge that what I need to say does matter. No one can read my mind, not even the people I love and who seem to know me the best. Despite the cloud of enigma surrounding me, I’m a highly intuitive person. I can sense when the vibe is off, when someone is hurting and not saying why. I have a fascination with understanding the emotions someone goes through, even though I hate talking about my own. This probably explains why I wanted to be a psychologist or counselor for the longest time. I sought out being a teacher instead, which is a service profession and surprise, surprise, drains the daylights out of me when giving my all. Let me be clear, I do love helping others, but need balance in my life. After having my own family, my two energetic boys have taught me a hard lesson that being serious about my me-time is warranted and beneficial.
“The trepidation of expressing love or any real strong emotion keeps me in my safe zone appearing as detached and standoffish, yet astonishingly, I actually do care and feel deeply about everything.”
It’s a contradiction, but I’m a realist by nature, living in an idealistic world all in my imagination. Being an idealist (in my mind) allows me to live in a judgement-free, utopian world full of limitless wonder by creating a fictitious, audacious version of myself that conquers all her fears of expressing love and affection without looking silly in front of others through the imaginary scenarios I create. But alas, my rationality overshadows any hope of that version of me coming through in real life — isn’t that what’s known as self-preservation, though? Rather than pour my heart out and risk the fear of being hurt or misunderstood, I’d rather just put up a front, creating an air of mystique that keeps my counterparts guessing who I really am.
Okay, it’s not like I have an alter-ego or some deep dark secret to hide, but once again love is a tricky emotion for me to express as I’ve written about in a roundabout way. The trepidation of expressing love or any real strong emotion keeps me in my safe zone appearing as detached and standoffish, yet astonishingly, I actually do care and feel deeply about everything. I pray for and think about those I love, and I try my best to constantly check on them. I show my love through acts of kindness, and words of affirmation and by supporting the endeavors of my loved ones.
“I now choose to operate with this in mind: I need to have unconditional compassion and care, firstly for myself — to feel it and believe it, so that love will always be there.”
So ultimately, by sharing these words I’ve had the courage to write, I’ve come to the understanding that love is complex, and through my self-analysis and my observations of how I am with my loved ones, I am not too hard to love or too much, if anything I should be a reflection of the love I choose to have. I should remember to practice kind and loving thoughts. I am loved and deserve the love I give. I came up with this affirmation a few weeks ago as I sat and thought about how much I do for my young boys; how I always try to protect them from harm and am always saying kind, loving words to them. Somehow along the way in this journey of life and motherhood, I forgot to practice this mantra for myself. I reflect upon my own upbringing, reminiscing on how the only times my siblings and I would hear the words, “I love you” were usually after a long lecture with the expectation of doing better because, of course, we knew better. We definitely grew up in a home full of love and care, but expressing emotions and affection in an African household is an oddity. As the sensitive middle child, I learned to bury how I really felt about anything — to internalize it because I guess it really wasn’t that important? It shaped me into the reserved, withheld woman I am and I have carried the same energy into any relationship I’ve had from then onward.
It’s been an eye opening process as a mother and wife now. I have nowhere to hide behind. I have to adequately communicate what I think, feel, want, need, and expect. Am I a pro at it now? Absolutely not, but I’m determined to break the cycle of dismissing my own feelings and expecting others to “just know” how I feel. I now choose to operate with this in mind: I need to have unconditional compassion and care, firstly for myself — to feel it and believe it, so that love will always be there. I now choose to practice sharing my feelings openly without a guarded fortress that keeps others from experiencing all the love I have to give.
