Back in my office days, I often found myself tuned into the Dr. Laura Show on talk radio. While her ideas can be a bit out there, I have to admit it was a quirky way to pass the time during my commutes. One topic that stuck with me was her discussion on “Love Languages,” which explains how couples express and receive love differently. At first, I dismissed it as a cliché, but lately, I’ve found myself pondering it more deeply.
You might not gather from my previous musings, but my partner, Alex, and I are quite the pair. In the grand scheme of things, we complement each other beautifully. If soulmates are a thing, he’s undoubtedly mine. He’s the peanut butter to my jelly, the sunshine to my rain— you name the metaphor, and it fits perfectly. Our only hurdle? We communicate our affection in completely different dialects.
I’m not referring to the language of “distractedly tuning out your partner,” although Alex is certainly fluent in that too. I’m talking about the unique ways we both showcase our love for one another.
For Alex, his language is the green of money. He demonstrates his affection through gifts, which creates a bit of a clash with my philosophy of frugality. This has led to countless trips back to the store to return things I didn’t want. Before we merged our finances, receiving unwanted presents was merely an annoyance, but after tying the knot, it felt utterly absurd. If I desire something, I prefer to buy it myself. Flowers wilt, cards end up in the trash, and there’s no hidden stash of funds for surprise gifts. It’s all a bit lost on me; I simply don’t speak “green.”
On the flip side, my love language is food. Cooking, planning, and sharing meals brings me joy. I’ve always believed that the way to a person’s heart is through their stomach, and I take that to heart. I spend hours in the kitchen, experimenting and crafting dishes inspired by our favorite restaurants. I envision myself as a contestant on a cooking show, striving to create the perfect meal for him. Yet, Alex would be equally satisfied with a simple bowl of pasta and jarred sauce or even a takeout box from a budget Chinese restaurant.
So, why do I continue to whip up elaborate meals? And why does Alex persist in showering me with gifts? Will we ever find a common language? Perhaps the answer lies in sharing a meal out together, with him picking up the tab.
Marriage is all about finding that middle ground.
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In summary, despite our different love languages, Alex and I navigate our relationship with humor and compromise. After all, it’s those differences that make our union uniquely ours.
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