Love isn’t a feeling.

Happy Valentine’s Day, a day both so revered and reviled that it's impossible to know where anyone falls on it without asking, and if you do ask, then you run the risk of being trapped in a conversation you don’t want or care about. Personally? I think it's dumb to specify one day where you treat the person you love the way you should treat them all year. BUT Valentine’s Day is way more fun with kids in the house. It generally feels like a big party and a good reason to make chocolate cake with heart sprinkles and buy giant, heart shaped balloons. And this is a gift our kids give us: they can, if we let them, give us the chance to use silly, over-the-top gestures to help us find our way back to the real, vulnerable Big Love that gets buried under all the bullshit of day to day adulting.

But I digress.

I almost didn’t write about this. Valentine’s Day aside, of my now-four editions of this newsletter, three of them will be about love: friendship, self-love and the ripple effects it has, and now romantic love. But love—and the people we love, and our relationships with them—is crucial. To our well-being and to our sense of self. So here we are again. 

This year, Valentine’s Day has got me thinking for a very specific reason: in November, my husband and I celebrated our ten-year wedding anniversary. Given that we dated ten years before that, suffice it to say, we’ve been together a long time. Much longer than it actually feels like.

My marriage is NOT perfect (please note the capitals). As my husband can attest to, we both have our complaints about the other, and it's possible if I buy one more houseplant or pint of ice cream (because, to be clear, the freezer already has many) that his head will actually explode, and, less in jest, we’ve worked/are working through a lot of weightier things. But the combination of this milestone and Valentine’s Day has me reflecting a lot on the state of my marriage, and also of love in general. Not the heart thumping, stomach dropping, weak knees type of “love” we so often see and read about in the media. I’m talking about the kind of love that withstands life. The kind of love I want to model for my girls, and that I want for them someday. The kind of love that has me saying to my girls: “Daddy has had a really hard day, so let's give him extra hugs when he gets home,” or my husband saying to them: “Mommy is very tired and needs to sleep in the morning and we are absolutely not going to wake her up,” or me saying to my husband: “of course we should spend tons of money for you to see the Kenny Chesney three times this year because I know his music brings you joy,” or my husband saying to me “of course I can take off work and pick Little up from school and solo parent so you can spend much needed time with your friend.” It’s the kind of love where you wake up with your feet tangled together, and the last thing you hear before you drift off to sleep is “I love you.”

It’s easy to say “I love you,” but words mean nothing without actions to back them up. We have to consistently demonstrate that love by showing up for that person in ways that are meaningful to them. Love itself is inert and individual. We show our love by treating each other with kindness, goodness, and compassion. This is how the movement of love comes to be, how we take it from a private feeling to a state of connection. 

Now, the concept of love being a verb isn’t a new one. The act of love is different from the feeling of love, and the act of love is a choice. We strengthen love by showing love, but we can also contribute to its growth by choosing to frame our love and relationships in positive ways. Choosing to see your partner in a way other than your current default requires work, but that work can pull you from a dark place and bring you both back into the light. 

I recently read a brilliant interpretation of confirmation bias in Katherine Center’s inventive book, Hello Stranger: “Basically we tend to decide on what the world is and who the people are and how things are—and then we look for evidence that supports what we’ve already decided. And we ignore everything that doesn’t fit.” Otherwise said, also from Hello Stranger, “...if you expect to think a thing is true, you’re more likely to think it’s true.”

So maybe this Valentine’s Day, the action that we can give to those we love in the purest sense of that word—deep caring for another person—is a reframe. Is looking for the things we want to see so that we’ll see more of them. I’m not talking about overlooking legitimate issues, like abuse or adultery or just general assholery. And I’m also not talking about swallowing words or not holding true to your needs and boundaries or not communicating what you need, or how you want your relationship to be (see above: self-love). I’m talking about the petty grievances, the assumptions that our partner isn’t coming from a good place, the approach of looking at yourselves as separate, instead of as part of a team. We should try harder to give the people we love grace, and to try and have their back. To be grateful for all of the ways they show up for us, and to look for the good. As we find it, I truly believe, we’ll see more of it. And if we add to that a dose of kindness and compassion…well, then I wonder what you might discover? What happiness—what love-based connection—you might unlock?

Love isn’t a feeling, not really. It’s a choice to show up for each other day in and day out. A choice to show the people we love that we see them, that we’re willing to show our love in ways that are meaningful to them, and that we can and will look for the good in them and in our relationship so that we keep seeing more of it. So I hope that you can see the day for what it is: a reminder to show you those you love that you have the best of intentions with your love for them. That you’re willing to show up for them, see the good in them, and perpetuate that cycle for the rest of your lives. And as you’re doing that hard but meaningful work, friend, make the chocolate cake. And buy the balloons. I promise it will be worth it.

Of note: observations dispensed from a place of “work in progress,” not “I have this figured out and my self-help book is forthcoming” 😂

Of second note: this can also be applied to parenting/your relationship with your kid(s), if you have one/some. 😉

Recommendations Roundup

Click on the cover of any for which you’d like to read my short review.

Parting Shot

I wish you the peace that comes from living the life you want for yourself, the hope that comes from seeing your own potential, and the joy that comes from stepping back and feeling gratitude for it all. Go forth, my friends. I wish you well.

Love, 
Sarah

If you liked the content of this newsletter, please take a second to do me three favors:

1. If you’re a social media user, post something meaningful from it to your accounts and link to my web site (www.sarahberke.com);

2. Forward to a friend you think might like it, too;

3. Leave a comment below. Once you hit “post comment” you’ll be asked to enter your name (whatever you’d like to appear publicly), your email address (which won’t be visible) and the site name (which you can ignore), then click “post as guest.”