The Five Love Languages: How To Express Heartfelt Commitment To Your Mate (Walker Large Print Books)
Getting to Gnome You: Valentine’s Day Stories
Remember these guys? My neighbor won them at my Book Club’s Annual DeGift & Re-Gift Party. Well, as it turns out, Lori…
Back in elementary school, when we were essentially forced to make Valentine’s cards for each other, we never discussed love or compassion. We were taught that a good partner should intuitively know what would give the other person happiness.
We were definitely not instructed to ask for what we want.
Ideally, we are supposed to to put aside own egos and give what we know would bring our partners joy.
Even if we aren’t totally into it.
That kind of sacrifice is called love.
Compassionate love is hard to sustain.
But without it, relationships fail.
No doubt, cutting out construction paper valentines was fun, especially when paired with a cupcake and a nappy.
But it taught us the wrong message.
Store bought cards signed without any sentiment aren’t enough, even if paired with a handful of Hershey’s kisses.
If we really want to show someone that they are important to us, we need to think about what they want and be mindful to do so in a way that they will most appreciate.
What Are These Love Languages?
Chapman identifies the five primary ways that people show love:
- Words of Affirmation: You feel most cared for when your partner is open and expressive in telling you how wonderful they think you are and how much they appreciate you. Basically, you need people to remind you that their world is a better place because you are in it.
- Acts of Service:
If your partner offering to watch the kids so you can do what you’d like to do gets your heart racing, then this is your love language. - Physical Touch:
If you like to hug, kiss and touch a lot, and/or if naked time with your partner makes you feel most loved, this is your primary love language. - Quality Time:
This love language is about being together, fully present and engaged in the activity at hand, no matter how trivial. - Gifts:
If you feel most appreciated when your partner takes the time to buy you something you’d really like, this is your primary love language.
When I took Chapman’s test in the back of the book, I learned that my primary love language is “Physical Touch” followed by “Quality Time.”
Chapman asserts that we have to figure out what our partners really want based on their primary love language. When our unique needs are met, he asserts, it feels like “our love tanks” have been topped off; however, if our needs aren’t being satisfied, we will feel drained and experience health problems.
What am I doing this Valentine’s Day?
1) Treating myself to a pedicure. 2) Celebrating my son’s 16 & 1/2 birthday; and 3) Remaining hopeful that one day I’ll find someone who understands me… and my love language.
Which language is your love primary language? What about your partner? What would you most love to receive for Valentine’s Day? Are you willing to do something different this year in the name of love? I’d love to hear from you!
tweet me @rasjacobson
Remember these guys? My neighbor won them at my Book Club’s Annual DeGift & Re-Gift Party. Well, as it turns out, Lori wasn’t wild about the gnome salt & pepper shakers. And guess what? She gave them to me! And just in time for Valentine’s Day! Read on to see what you can do to win them!
Valentine’s Day in kindergarten was simple. My teacher wore a red sweater with pink hearts on it. We ate cupcakes. And then we napped.
In 3rd grade, Valentine’s Day became a bigger production. Valentines needed to be made for every person in both sections of the grade. Forty construction paper hearts, people!
My mother brought out a the colored construction paper, handed me a pair of scissors, and I got busy cutting out small, medium and large-sized hearts for my friends.
The people I liked the best got the biggest hearts.
And since I was not stupid, I made my teachers big hearts, too.
{I needed all the brownie points I could get.}
In 1976, I was crushing hard on two boys. I took tons to time make sure both boys received double-matted cards – pink construction hearts glued on top of red construction hearts – and I carefully wrote the same note to both boys. And signed my name.
{In pen.}
I didn’t think much about signing my cards.
It was Valentine’s Day.
If ever there was a day to use the word “LOVE,” that was the day, right?
Um, wrong!
Once the cards were delivered, it was discovered I loved not just one but two boys.
That day I learned about monogamy. There were rules, and I had broken them. It didn’t matter how much Herbal Essence Shampoo I used, girls were not supposed to love two boys at once. It didn’t matter if Savallas called Mary and me on Saturday mornings to talk about Soul Train. It wasn’t okay for a girl to like two boys.
In high school, the pressure around Valentine’s Day increased.
Students bought flowers for friends {and the people with whom they hoped to become more than friends} for the bargain-basement price of $1 per stem.
While I always received a few flowers from my closest friends, the popular girls made a big show about carrying their dozens of carnations around, toting them from class to class like it was a chore. It was hard not to feel inadequate sitting next to Miss Universe over there, holding two-dozen pink and red carnations on her lap as she copied her vocabulary words off the blackboard.
And some people didn’t get any flowers at all. That had to sting.
When we were in the “I-so-want-to-impress-this-woman” phase of our relationship, Hubby made an amazing dinner at his friend Brian’s house. (Okay, maybe Brian made the dinner, but I’m sure Hubby helped). It was a long, late leisurely meal. I tried escargot for the first time. And ate filet mignon alongside a green salad. We all drank wine.
Later, I smashed an irreplaceable wine glass (hand blown in Germany and borrowed from Brian’s mother) on Brian’s floor.
Anyway, Hubby wasn’t mad at me.
{Brian’s mother probably was, but Hubby made me feel okay about being human.}
Years later, when I became a high school teacher and saw girls parading around with their carnations, I decided celebrating Valentine’s Day in school teaches students the wrong message about love.
The implication is that love is something you can buy.
That the person with the tallest pile of cards or the most flowers is the winner.
Hubby helped me unlearn that lesson.
And for that I am grateful.
Tell me about a best (or worst) Valentine’s Day memory. It can be fact or fiction or hybrid.
*If you are interested in winning those gnomes, include the word #GNOME at the end of your post! And tweet me for an extra chance to win!*
Winners will be announced on Friday 2/15, after I do all the figuring. I imagine Random Number Generator will help.