Big Picture: We Love Each Other

I don’t know why this happens, but it seems that there are some people in our lives who we simultaneously love dearly and struggle to show it. There’s the big picture: you love each other. And then, there’s the frame by frame, where it is less clear.

Life is experienced from frame to frame, but it is, often, interpreted in relation a big picture. What I’m looking to do in circumstances when it feels like I’m inadequately showing the people I love that I love them, is remember the big picture. The big picture is simple: I love this person.

Frankly, there isn’t anyone I think I could deem to be particularly unlovable. I think I struggle to give the people I love the grace they deserve more than a stranger or acquaintance. Perhaps this is because with strangers, it’s easier to understand that I don’t know their intent, and I am not familiar with their story.

With ones who I love, I feel as though I am able to read them, that I can understand the motivations behind their behaviors. Oddly, this can encourage me to take things more personally. I think I know what they’re thinking, and there are so many storylines involved that I consider when I interpret their actions. I’ve noticed, through reflection, that a major pitfall of analyzing the behaviors of those I love is that I quite literally will never know everything inside their head. There are stories they’ve lived and told themselves that I’ll never have the rights to. I have my own stories, too. Funny enough, I get pissed at the mere notion that someone would try to interpret my actions in some sort of story that I do not identify with. I feel itchy at the thought of being misunderstood.

Despite feeling the way I do, I am guilty of misunderstanding people I love. Often. Because, as shocking as it is (it still gets me every time!)- people know themselves better than I do. And it is not healthy to annotate my interpretations alongside their story in which I am—at most—designed to be a supporting character!!! Notice how I define myself as a character—not an author, director, or critic. Another one, gets me every time!!!

When we try to tell the people we love what to do or who to be, we strain our relationships. They push away. Do you like to be told what to do?? Me neither. The best we can do is be a guidepost to those we love of who they are—we can strive to bring the best out of people. My dad always tells me, “Fi, you can’t change people.” He’s right. It’s also a very self-centered way to live, trying to change people. Bold of me to assume they want to change!

This is harder to abide by, but, also as a rule: if someone tells you they wish to change, but don’t ask for advice or companionship as they do so—bite. your. tongue. Offer support in the moment, and then let them be. No one wants to feel like their friend is trying to change them. We all want to feel loved for who we believe we are—who we feel we are in the big picture. Beyond the shitty frames, and with the retakes in their place. A fantastic way to show love is to allow people the space and grace to get where they’re trying to go, without offering too much commentary along the way. As Bob Goff has said, “we’re all just rough drafts of the people we are becoming.” Challenge yourself to love people at their rough drafts, while mirroring to them the wonder and awe of their incredible big picture. That is the unconditional love we are created to show one another.

There are people in our lives who will push our buttons, and I think that the ones closest to us can be the most talented button-pushers. They know all about your side bangs and retainer in third grade. They know you so well, from so many phases of life, and you know them from those phases too. With our closest loved ones, we can get caught repeating the same shitty frames. It’s hard to take a retake in real-time.

(I’m just now realizing it was a brave move to make an extending metaphor about film when I have about thissss much *pinches thumb and pointer finger together until there’s the teeniest space in between* experience with film. Film friends, if you’re reading this, let it happen <3. I’ll leave the film stuff to you moving forward.)

Regrettably, in many moments when I wish I could request a retake—sometimes as soon as a frame I’m not proud of occurs—I let my pride stand in the way. I act as though I already know what would occur if I apologized, and that it’d be yet another unsatisfactory frame. Maybe so. I don’t think that’s a good enough reason to be stingy with meaningful apologies and “I love you’s.” It’s simple to agree that the big picture is loving one another; it being simple does not qualify it as easy.

When frame after frame is repeating the same, stale story, we have a few options:

  1. Ask for a retake. Acknowledge what these frames are saying, and how that conflicts with a big picture of love.

  2. Practice rewriting your own story. See what happens. Reflecting on the storylines dictating the scores of our relationships is important to the ultimate goal: ditching the scripts that aren’t serving us. Let the script be “love everybody, always.” Fall short over and over, ask for grace, and try again. It’s the surest way to inch closer to the big picture of showing the people we love that we, in fact, love them.

  3. Allow for some distance. If when you and another person are too close up, you lose sight of the big picture, maybe it’s time to give each other some space. What’s key, though, during this period of space, is to use it to heal aspects of the relationship that have gotten infected. Examine for jealousy, projections, and wounds that are fragile with scabs. These are places where you have work to do. It is not the job of anyone else to perform this care, however kind and loving it is when others aid in our healing. Chances are, it is not best to return to the person involved in our wounds to demand that they heal it. They were hurt too. Continue nursing yourself, and keeping your side of the street clean. Not in a “well I didn’t do anything!!!” and “I kept my side of the street clean, they’re impossible. Look at their lawn!!! Have they ever mowed it. See, it’s really them that has work to do, not me!” way, but in a “I’m going to live in a way that serves me, with habits and boundaries that allow me to build a nice home within myself.” manner.

It is frustrating to me how I can continue learning and healing myself, yet still struggle with being reactive around family members and/or loved ones. It’s all part of the journey, though. There are some stories and habits buried deep within us, and they take a lot of effort to unlearn. I implore you all to extend immense grace and love to yourself as you strive to love others. It is your superpower in loving others—we cannot give from an empty cup. As admirable as it is to practice loving difficult people, it’s important to also give yourself plenty of time around people who make you feel easy to love, and who you naturally are good at loving. Continue filling your cup with relationships that make you better at loving others—this will include both difficult and easy relationships.

Through it all, I have found one reminder to be particularly helpful. It sounds morbid, but it is actually something referred to in Buddhism: remember death. When I think about how I’d feel if I lost someone I loved, I think about how I’d probably miss the way they pushed my buttons as well as the infinite reasons I love them. Remembering how fragile and uncertain life is really prompts me to focus on how I make people feel loved. I know my regrets would come from not having done enough to show my love. This encourages me to keep trying to show up as loving, and to say “I love you,” even when I’m angry. It doesn’t mean I can make every relationship perfect, or that I should beat myself up each time I snap or fall short of who I wish to be, but it does incentivize me to do the work I can in order to love people in real-time, and pause for a re-take when needed.

Big picture: we were created to love one another. Keep sight of this big picture, and let love be the director of your life.

From Fi, with love

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