Life Style

It’s important to me to be a good girlfriend. But I suspect I’m getting the better deal

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Now I am seeing a man who not only talks the talk, he walks it, and brings along snacks to sustain me along the journey. And honestly, it has taken me some time to get used to.

Very early in our relationship, my partner offered to drive me to an appointment in the city and, instead of feeling grateful, I felt racked with guilt. Why was he offering? What was in it for him? Surely, I couldn’t allow a man to be so inconvenienced.

Over time, however, I realised that my partner genuinely enjoys helping the people he loves. He doesn’t even need thanks or validation; he just does it because it makes him happy. I realised, too, that I could learn – surprisingly quickly – to enjoy being cared for.

After a few hesitant months, I began calling on my partner to assist me in all crises, large and small. I could see that it wasn’t an inconvenience for him to do things for me; it was a genuine pleasure. And if my partner was happiest when fixing my broken appliances and shlepping me around town, well, it would be selfish and unreasonable to deny him.

Over the past couple of years, I have revised what love means to me, and what is meaningful in an intimate relationship. I had always believed that words were profoundly important. (I’m a writer! I spend my life thinking about words!) I had always believed that I needed my romantic partner to tell me I am beautiful and lovable and smart.

These days, I genuinely don’t care what my partner says; I care far more about what he does. Words of affection and affirmation are nice – and yes, I get those too – but I know now that there are things that are even better. A good coffee served to me in bed in the morning. A cup of tea brought to me at night. A partner by my side during difficult doctor’s appointments. A person who drops everything to rescue me when my car breaks down, who is good to my parents, who helps my kids out when they’re in a pickle.

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Love is a verb, I have learnt. Love is action. Love is doing. Compliments are lovely, but words are just words.

So where does this leave me and my love language? Well, I’m still very expressive, but I am aware that words of affirmation are my currency, not my partner’s. He doesn’t mind me rambling about how wonderful he is, but he certainly doesn’t require it, either. And we couldn’t both express ourselves through acts of service. We’d just be arguing about who gets to do what, and neither of us would ever be satisfied.

Yes, I am probably getting the better deal in our relationship, but I extend myself in my own way. I force myself to lie back like Lady Muck and allow my partner to do things for me. I dig deep, and think of errands, and favours, and chores, and facilitate the happiness he truly deserves.

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