“But he loves me…”
“But he loves me…”
This is never a good thing to hear. The “he loves me” part is all well and good but never when prefaced with “but.”
Here’s what I mean. “He bought me flowers. He loves me.” Oh great, I’m happy for you. See how there’s no reason to add the “but”? It wouldn’t make any sense. “He bought me flowers. But he loves me.” Say what?
Now try out this sentence. “He won’t help out around the apartment. But he loves me.” Huh, interesting. Or how about this one? “He cheated on me with my best friend. But he loves me.” Well he really has a funny way of showing it.
Early in my twenties I received love advice from a very loud woman named Peggy. Peggy had an opinion about everything, and I certainly didn’t always agree with her, but one day she said something that I found to be profoundly true. “Sex,” Peggy said, “begins in the kitchen.”
And no, Peggy wasn’t talking about initiating foreplay on the stovetop. She meant that if you want your partner to desire you, then do the damn dishes every now and then, her larger point being that a good love life must be based on service.
It’s not uncommon for one of my clients to chronicle the many crappy things their spouse/parent/friend/whatever has done and then attempt to comfort themselves by saying, “But he loves me.” And this unshakable belief — “But he loves me” — can keep people trapped in unhealthy, even abusive relationships.
Love is a verb. You can tell if someone loves you based on how they treat you. If you love a plant, Erich Fromm once wrote, you’ll water it. If you say you love that plant but don’t water it, then there’s a pretty good chance that you don’t actually love it.
What’s that? At the reception after your aunt’s funeral, he cleaned up all the cat vomit? Wow, he sounds like a genuinely loving person. What? He didn’t get all pissy when you were having your migraine and said you didn’t want to have sex? Impressive. And he volunteered to drive to Walgreens to pick up more Excedrin Migraine? This guy’s a keeper.
I’m being a little silly, but you get the point. Someone who treats you like crap doesn’t love you. It’s that simple. He might say he loves you. He might think he loves you. But if he really loves you, he will treat you right.
Someone who takes their bad day out on you, every time they have a bad day, doesn’t love you. Someone who secretly reactivates their online dating profile, even though they insist they weren’t going to actually do anything, doesn’t love you. Someone who rarely puts you first, someone who doesn’t ever make sacrifices for you, someone who knows how bereft you are after your aunt’s funeral yet doesn’t volunteer to clean up the cat vomit, doesn’t love you.
Yes, good people sometimes do crappy things, but if you find yourself saying more than once a blue moon, “But he loves me,” then there’s a problem.
This is never a good thing to hear. The “he loves me” part is all well and good but never when prefaced with “but.”
Here’s what I mean. “He bought me flowers. He loves me.” Oh great, I’m happy for you. See how there’s no reason to add the “but”? It wouldn’t make any sense. “He bought me flowers. But he loves me.” Say what?
Now try out this sentence. “He won’t help out around the apartment. But he loves me.” Huh, interesting. Or how about this one? “He cheated on me with my best friend. But he loves me.” Well he really has a funny way of showing it.
Early in my twenties I received love advice from a very loud woman named Peggy. Peggy had an opinion about everything, and I certainly didn’t always agree with her, but one day she said something that I found to be profoundly true. “Sex,” Peggy said, “begins in the kitchen.”
And no, Peggy wasn’t talking about initiating foreplay on the stovetop. She meant that if you want your partner to desire you, then do the damn dishes every now and then, her larger point being that a good love life must be based on service.
It’s not uncommon for one of my clients to chronicle the many crappy things their spouse/parent/friend/whatever has done and then attempt to comfort themselves by saying, “But he loves me.” And this unshakable belief — “But he loves me” — can keep people trapped in unhealthy, even abusive relationships.
Love is a verb. You can tell if someone loves you based on how they treat you. If you love a plant, Erich Fromm once wrote, you’ll water it. If you say you love that plant but don’t water it, then there’s a pretty good chance that you don’t actually love it.
What’s that? At the reception after your aunt’s funeral, he cleaned up all the cat vomit? Wow, he sounds like a genuinely loving person. What? He didn’t get all pissy when you were having your migraine and said you didn’t want to have sex? Impressive. And he volunteered to drive to Walgreens to pick up more Excedrin Migraine? This guy’s a keeper.
I’m being a little silly, but you get the point. Someone who treats you like crap doesn’t love you. It’s that simple. He might say he loves you. He might think he loves you. But if he really loves you, he will treat you right.
Someone who takes their bad day out on you, every time they have a bad day, doesn’t love you. Someone who secretly reactivates their online dating profile, even though they insist they weren’t going to actually do anything, doesn’t love you. Someone who rarely puts you first, someone who doesn’t ever make sacrifices for you, someone who knows how bereft you are after your aunt’s funeral yet doesn’t volunteer to clean up the cat vomit, doesn’t love you.
Yes, good people sometimes do crappy things, but if you find yourself saying more than once a blue moon, “But he loves me,” then there’s a problem.
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