4/15/24

"And they lived happily ever after". Throughout all the stupendous amounts of tropes and stereotypes presented and continued by the media, this is probably the most unrealistic. Like most girls who grew up in the early 2000s, the relationships I was exposed to raised my expectations far beyond a reasonable amount, and though I was aware of this occurrence even at the time, I can't help but reflect on the earlier learnings of my life and wonder about how they affect me today. 

The things we surround ourselves with at a young age will always linger in our heads no matter our ability to recognize them. I always heard growing up how much I looked, behaved, and simply was a clone of my Mother, thus, I took her words as life lessons and went about my life with her voice as the voice inside my head. More than anything else, she taught me how to love people unconditionally. She herself had her own issues, of which she inevitably passed onto me, however, through thick and thin, the one thing she kept consistent - especially in my youth - was how important it was to love. So I loved. And I did so unapologetically, and for a while, that resulted in some of the most profound relationships I could've encountered. The little boy who loved maybe a little too hard befriended lifelong partners with whom he would grow and mature alongside. But when it came time for the talk of the birds and the bees, my mind developed to a point in which I was able to differentiate the love I felt for my family, my friends, and the people I "like-liked", I began to understand why loving people isn't always enough. 

I will be the first to admit that I did not find my maturity in a normal way. Not to suggest that I think people such as myself are abnormal; but rather that there is an objective, average, "normal" way for a young boy to grow, and I can recognize that that experience was not my own. Like most girls of my generation who grew up in the very early 2000s right at the peak of when commentary on how a relationship between a man and a woman should look, I found myself swept up on the side we were now acknowledging as unhealthy. My perspective of love was influenced by my Mother, but my expectations of what romance would look like, when applied to myself, were entirely the makings of my favorite couples; Elizabeth and Will Turner, Ariel and Eric, and Gabriella and Troy.  In those movies, they fell in love instantly, no questions asked. But the most important aspect of their story is that their love was made even stronger by the obstacles they had to overcome; challenges to strengthen their relationship and make their "happily ever after" that much more significant. And though I had good mentors for how to love and somewhat decent examples in films and songs of what good love looks and feels like, I had yet to be taught which obstacles are just short of something worth fighting against. 

Though my Mother has good intentions, she doesn't know when to stop. She loves her people, and to any degree would do just about anything for them, but something I've noticed as an observer is how that love is reciprocated. I see her up all hours of the night until my Stepdad gets home from the night shift and the frustration she endures while making 15 different people 4 square yards of crocheted blankets every Christmas. What's more, I see my Stepdad falling asleep on the couch before my Mom gets off work at 5 PM - before the thought of preparing dinner or tidying for her as she does for him every day even crosses his mind - and the gift cards to restaurants she doesn't like that she gets for Christmas in return. I can see the effort she gives as her expression of love, effort that is hardly returned, but at what point does the love she gives to others become a doormat for them to get what they want out of her, and continue without considering what expression of love she needs to know its reciprocated? Where do the challenges become too challenging, and begin to turn the love my Mother gives to those around her into something her children tell her to stop doing? 

I feel so confident speaking to my Mother like this because, as her "clone", our experiences regarding giving love especially are very similar, if not the same. Like her, I enjoy giving; and like her, I've experienced what it feels like to get absolutely nothing in return. Part of what struck this conversation in my head is the way my Sister and I approach her with these kinds of situations. Obviously, we love our Mother and want what's best for her, and from a child's standpoint, we can only admire and appreciate how caring and good of a person she is. But from an outside perspective, and because we want good things for her, it becomes difficult to see her giving so much with so little gain. Likewise, she and I have had similar conversations about myself. She knows me better than any other person, our brains are scarily the same, and as her son, and though I am not sure she'd like to admit it, as her friend as well, I've confided in her some of my most private moments. She has seen the tears I shed over the people I bring into my life, and what's more, she's seen the tears I've shed over the ones no longer there. Though I don't whether or not she would admit it, I know she has to sometimes feel the same. The constant disappointment expecting that someday, kindness will be enough. But it never is. "Nice" is what you call someone when there is nothing else to compliment, and if that "niceness" is not something one innately wishes to return, the love given will only ever be just "nice". And it raises the question; When does the love we want to give become the very reason we don't get it reciprocated? Is loving too easily a bad thing, or a rare feature that is simply no longer sought after? Is love enough?

I recently talked to a boy I was quite fond of. It was one of those too-good-to-be-true scenarios, minus a few minor obstacles. He was tall and handsome, quiet when it counted, and possessed a quality of kindness that let my guard, along with my shorts, fall down to my ankles. We talked for months, called on the regular, a proper middle-school adjacent, legs kicking in the air, twirling my hair kind of crush. It was the basic case of miscalculation, an attempt at overlooking one major obstacle, distance, on the principle that we had a shared interest in one another. To me, distance isn't one. I travel quite frequently; my family is spread from Pennsylvania to Washinton, not to mention very good friends from the farthest South, West, North, and East one can get on the continent. To me, if I care, I will make it work. He shared no such ideals, and I quickly found the longevity of a long-distance relationship when one fails to communicate realistic expectations. However, this is where we begin to answer my question; Is love enough? Through no real fault of his own, he inevitably grew distant. A three-hour time difference between home and home, two opposing, very busy schedules, and a shit ton of lying will do that to a relationship. The issue I found myself in is one I fear no amount of self-control or maturity can fix, one settled deep within the interworkings of a very split brain. Try as I did to cut it off before things got dirty, he doubled down, reassuring my feelings of an ever-growing, sudden distance were merely getting muddled in the stress of a new semester, and the pressure of moving further from my family. As the days went on, the relationship halted. And attempt as I did to simply continue being the person he messaged first -by the way - somehow the sweetness that used to convince him a four-hour flight was not the worst scenario, became an element of bitterness towards my unwavering feelings of fondness. It was as though every time I communicated that I wasn't happy with how things were, almost pleading for him to say the words I was afraid to hear but needed to be said, words he was also afraid to admit, it reaffirmed that I was not what he wanted. 

As much power as I had in return to end it, and believe I tried to, hearing someone you did objectively care for tell you the reasons you want it to end are not true, and simply a thought in your head, does make it significantly more difficult to do so in good conscience. So I strung along, and attempted to show what I had to offer in the only way I really could; be kind, be sweet, love. Because when it comes down to it, that's all I know how to do, especially in such stupid situations as I found myself in. To me, if I care, that's all that's important to me. I like this person so I'll do what I can. It's stupid. Furthermore, it's immature, it's pointless, it's such a waste. And I know that better than anyone, but the issue arises when I'm in the moment, I can't think like that. I just want to be there, with them, I want an obstacle we can overcome. I've heard time and time again these sayings; "If he wanted to he would", "if you really care you can make it work", or an extension of this "The right person will make it work".In my head, it's not like I'm asking for marriage or even a boyfriend. All I want is the affirmation that something will happen. That the feelings we have make the obstacles just that: an obstacle. That love is enough. 

I know I'm not a saint. I've been on the receiving end of the people who say "I just love too hard". I get it. I'm not that. What I am is someone willing to put in the work if the feelings feel reciprocal. I don't love it too hard, but I do love it a lot. I love people. I love my friends, and I love my family, and when I care about someone who is neither of those things, I will say I love them too. I love people I've met once. I love people I've never met at all. I love people who remember little things I told them that I forgot I mentioned. I love people who love. I will be the first to say I'm not a victim for not getting that treatment in return. I can't imagine how exhausting it must be to be on the receiving end of someone who expects everything they give to be returned. Relationships are hard to maintain, and some even go as far as to say a relationship needs a challenge before it can truly work, I am such a person. I don't think it is an issue of whether or not love is enough, or if there is any constant in which obstacles are and are not ones we are capable of overcoming. Love is not a finite source, and I am perfectly content giving it to those I feel deserve it. But the challenge I impose on myself, and those around me, is knowing when love is deserved. Those Disney couples had their challenges to overcome, but was it a possibility because they overcame them together? Or were they going to end up together regardless of the challenges presented to them? Was it the challenges that made their relationship stronger, or did they simply belong together from the start? Do we need challenges in our relationships to make it work, or is it a direct result of those movies that make us think so?

If love is enough, who's the right person to give it to?