Love: 1. an intense feeling of profound affection; 2. a divine interest or like in something.

Language: 1. a system of communication

Love language: communication of profound affection or divine interest in something

I first discovered love languages in a family development class in undergrad. I was so eager to learn what the test would uncover, knowing full well that I already knew what they were just by reading the five love languages. I knew that Receiving Gifts was my primary and Quality Time was my secondary. After taking the test, it was confirmed. I knew that because I know what I love to do and how I like to interact with those I love or at least like to be around in some capacity.

For years, I stood ten toes down on what my love languages were until discussing it with someone I was getting to know, and out of curiosity, I decided to retake the test. To my surprise, my secondary, Quality Time, was now tied with Word of Affirmation. That blew my mind. Words of Affirmation? Really? I never pegged myself as someone who needed or wanted people to affirm or praise me in any way.

It wasn’t until I saw a post that somewhat resonated with me and made me want to do some shadow work. It said that the love languages we have, are formed from the things we lacked in childhood. I thought that couldn’t be right. I know I didn’t lack for gifts, time, or praise when I was a child. That was until the thought wouldn’t go away and I dug deeper and reframed the questions I asked myself.

What did gifts mean to me? When I received gifts as a child, what was the reason? When did I receive them? What type of quality time was spent growing up? How did I spend my time and with who? How was I praised as a child? When was I praised? Was I affirmed as a child? When and how was I affirmed? Were loving words expressed on a regular in my household? Asking these questions, also lead me to question why the other love languages scored so low. Why weren’t Physical Touch or Acts of Service anywhere near being high or average on my list? I didn’t know and if you know me even in the slightest bit, you know I had to find out.

First, I started with why I loved receiving gifts so much. I love receiving gifts, big/small, expensive/free, new/recycled, or store-bought/handmade. It didn’t matter. I was always (well most of the time) grateful for any gift I received. Initially, I thought that I loved receiving gifts because I grew up an only child and usually received anything that I wanted but it was deeper than that. It was how my dad showed he loved me. My dad would give me gifts whenever I saw him, whether it was money or something I asked for, he always had something for me. Although that made me hella happy as a child, I thought about what came along with those gifts: the absence of quality time.

I realized that whenever I did see my dad and he had a gift for me, it was usually when he failed to follow through with his commitments with me. It was when he didn’t pick me up for the weekend when he actually picked me up and then dropped me off at my aunt’s or a family friend’s house, or he’d see me out and randomly call me over in front of his friends and give me money, and most importantly, holidays when he would try to outdo my mom. Birthdays were never a thing because he never seemed to remember when my birthday was.

This also tied into my need for quality time. My dad was my everything as a child. In my eyes, he could do no wrong no matter how many times he disappointed me. He was my dad and everyone knew and loved him. I wanted to be just like him, so I wanted to be around him every chance I got. I loved going over to my great grandparent's house in the morning and after school because I knew that if I didn’t see him any other time, he would be there because he worked in the family business.

Other times, I would make sure I spent weekends and summers at my aunt’s house because he was always at the football or softball fields and I knew I would run into him there too. I did any and everything I could do within my power as a child to be in places where I could see him. I yearned for that quality time with him. I could say I’ve never had real quality time with my dad. No outings with just him and myself, no deep conversations, no special things that only we did, just a bunch of random in and out encounters. That sucks ass.

None of this discovery was surprising. The dots just weren’t connected. It did make me wonder about Word of Affirmation though and I realized two things: one, my late aunt, Darlene, always encouraged and affirmed me as a child. She would always tell me I was eccentric and a special child. She would say I was smart and inquisitive and don’t ever allow anyone to tell me any different. She was the person who allowed me to be my weird little self and encouraged me to explore anything that I wanted. It was like she understood me and poured into all the seeds she saw growing in me. Along with her, my mom also praised me and was always bragging about my grades or whenever I had a poem, story, or article published somewhere. I’m not even going to get into me being a teacher’s pet my entire life. Lol.

The second thing I realized was that I endured a lot of verbal abuse in relationships and some job positions. It seemed like I constantly faced people who doubted me or didn’t want me to prosper. I remember a Black, female principal at the juvenile prison I worked at flat out telling me that because I dressed masculine and had locs, I would never get a position in Education. I remember being scolded for listening to inmates and building trust and a repertoire with them. I recall a fellow Black, female school counselor telling me that I would not be able to find a counseling position right after I graduated with my Masters. I had a horrible first year being a school counselor when my Black, female assistant principal harassed me constantly about my gender and sexual identity and attempted to get me fired and my license revoked.

Over the years, I have been told that I wasn’t shyt, wasn’t going to be shyt, and nobody would want me from past lovers. I can’t say that I never received loving or kind words from them but when the fire was lit, it was always in hopes and intention of destroying me. Slowly, I began to resent those women and built a stoic persona. Being an Aquarius, I easily detached from the warmth of love and affection. The flame blew out. I no longer knew what it felt like to have words breathe life into you from someone else. I was my only life support. My own hype man. Yet, that only was true on the outside. I became my worst critic. My negative self-talk was overflowing with anxiety and doubt.

That was until I started sending out motivational messages to random people in my contacts. Whenever I needed a pick me up, I wrote whatever was I was feeling in my spirit. It was my outlet and affirmation that only I could give myself in my deepest time of need. That’s the thing. When I’m overthinking and overloading on criticism and what-ifs, it’s me who I turn to. I shut myself off from the world and dive deep into self-care mode. It’s there where I cater to myself and all my love languages.

I start with some good ole quality time. I will put my cell phone on DND, turn text messages off, disengage from social media, or simply turn my devices off all together depending on the level of QT I need. Next, I will do all the things I love: online shop, binge watch shows/movies, read, or sleep. After that, I have allowed myself to release some of that pent up energy and I’m ready to write. This is my time where I tell myself that I love every flaw and every trauma ridden nerve in my body. I allow myself to relax by lighting incense or sage, listening to thunderstorms in the dark. This is my healing process and where all of my writing comes tumbling out. I focus on every doubt and anything that I am anxious about and write “I am” affirmations to myself. Once there is nothing left in me to say, I’m ready to rest and wake up ready for the world.

Love languages didn’t have a profound meaning to me in how I wanted others to love me until I unraveled the “whys” behind it. It now serves as a blueprint of how I love myself first, so in turn, I can show others how to love me wholly and unconditionally.

Next up, uncovering why Physical Touch and Acts of Service are on the bottom of my list.

Love to your mind and light to your heart,

Dreux