Learning to Say "I Love You"
When my boyfriend Stephen and I got serious, I noticed that he had a habit that I found quite strange: He would say “Love you!” any time we parted. The frequency with which he said this increased until at some point he would say it even when I went out for a few minutes (for example, to the grocery store). He would add the “I” (as in “I love you”) when he wanted to stress that he truly loved me and was grateful to have me in his life.
I was not used to this sort of talk. My parents almost never said “Love you” nor even “I love you.” I can’t remember my dad ever saying either version to me (he died when I was 15). Our family joke was that my dad told my mom once that he loved her and then he said, “I’ll let you know if that changes.”
I do remember my mom saying “I love you” to me, but not until she was close to death. I remember how difficult it was for me to say that troublesome sentence to my mom even though I loved her dearly. When she was just weeks from death, I remember “coaching” myself and practicing in my mind what it would be like to say “I love you” to her.
Even with all of my motivation to not let my mom depart this life without hearing me tell her explicitly that I loved her, I could only say it at the end of our visits and only once at each visit. This simple sentence was so foreign to me that it was an accomplishment to say it aloud to my dying mother.
Stephen’s unexpected behavior of saying “Love you” at seemingly insignificant moments took some getting used to. Not only did he say it to me, but when I got to know his family, they started telling me that they loved me, too!
For me, it was awkward. I could barely tell my mom that I loved her. How could I tell this new family of mine that I loved them? I really liked this new guy and his family was awesome, so I leaned into it. I forced myself to say “Love you” even though I was scared and worried that his family might think my love wasn’t as real as theirs.
One day, Stephen told me a story which drove home why he was so adept at saying “Love you,” even when we were parting for just a short time: When she was only 35 years old, his sister Susan was hit by a car while enjoying an afternoon motorcycle ride with friends. Susan was killed instantly.
Stephen remembers with regret their final conversation just the night before. He had chosen not to tell Susan that he loved her. “I’ll tell her next time,” he thought to himself. But the next morning, there would never be a “next time” for Stephen and Susan to express their love. When I assured him that Susan knew he loved her, he said, “Yes, I know, but I would have liked to have said it, anyway.”
I began thinking about my own family and friends. Did they know that I loved them? If I or they died today, how would they know? In my pondering, I decided that I shouldn’t leave such an important piece of information up to chance.
Even though it was still awkward for me, I began telling those closest to me that I loved them. Sometimes I said “Love you” or “I love you.” In other cases, when I wasn’t sure how the other person would respond, I might just use a little heart when texting or emailing them. My goal was to work up to “I love you” when it seemed appropriate.
In some cases, I even went a little overboard — like last Christmas when I sent my brother 18 Christmas cards within a month, each with some version of “Love you” or “I love you” inside. Maybe it wasn’t so much that I was going overboard as it was trying to make up for all the years I’d missed saying it to him.
I’ve always felt that words are important and I dislike it when people use words — especially “I love you” — when they don’t actually mean it. I suppose part of my reluctance to say “I love you” was because I didn’t want to seem insincere.
I still feel that words are important. I want to be honest about my feelings. If I tell you that I love you, it’s because I truly mean it. If I don’t tell you that I love you, it might be that I actually don’t.1 But even if I don’t tell you I love you, it might be that I do but I’m just not ready to express it yet.
My journey of learning to say “I love you” has been one of self-reflection. I’ve contemplated why I struggle with the words, including how my family of origin was a model for my reluctance. I was blessed to find a family who didn’t have that reluctance and who taught me the value of expressing my love more freely.
What has been your journey with the phrase “I love you”? Is there someone to whom you might need to express your love verbally? Do you have reluctance, perhaps that stemmed from how love was expressed (or not) in your own family?
Does the thought of saying “I love you” feel awkward or stressful? Do you worry that your loved one might not feel the same way? What exactly is stopping you for stepping out on that limb and being the first to say “I love you”?
In my experience, I’ve found that learning to say “I love you” is a valuable tool for connecting with my loved ones. Even if you have other ways to express that emotion (e.g., gifts, touch, acts of service2), learning to say “I love you” is a powerful way to give and receive love.
Sorry, but I’m not yet evolved enough to love everyone. ;)
Read “The Five Love Languages” by Gary Chapman learn about more ways in which to express love.