I just finished Common’s Let Love Have the Last Word. I found it to be a worthwhile and rewarding read. His book sheds valuable light on love as a lens for reflection in our personal lives and on the state of our community. Common’s writing strengthens important causes and gives voice to real needs. He explores the layers and various contexts of love.
A few themes stood out to me:
A man (or a woman) can choose grace and growth (vs. anger and defensiveness) when challenged by lovers/loved ones. There is strength in taking responsibility for the role you play(ed) in the pain of someone you love(d). His stories about growing in/through love with his father and his daughter are powerful testimonies.
Counseling is good. Seeking to understand the underlying themes in our behaviors can be liberating and life-changing. Therapy can expose/disrupt broken patterns we don’t even know are there… I wonder what would happen if we all committed to do the heart work around fixing ourselves? I wish for all a community of friends and family who will encourage us in this direction when we seek to blame others for why/when things fall apart (turn out differently than expected). Blame is wasteful, and it won’t help improve your present life or future.
The sexual abuse of boys and men needs to be excavated. The silence, shame, and stigmas around their pain is unfair. Whenever they gain the strength to share, we should embrace and empower them.
Experiencing this level of vulnerability from a man of his race, stature, and success is brave and powerful. I share my favorite quote from the book below,
“I asked myself if this world I seek, this one powered by love is even necessary or realistic. Perhaps there is little need to make one up...I realize that half the battle is learning how to carry our burdens, our suffering, with grace—discovering how to navigate our lives w/o becoming consumed by bitterness and anxiety. Perhaps there is no other way to live. Perhaps this is all we can ask of love: to restore to us our dignity when life unravels and calls us forth to reconstruct ourselves once again; to rebuild amidst deconstruction; to choose life and love every second there is breath and life in our bodies...” -Common
So what for love in modern dating?
The quote resonated deeply because I am in a state rebuilding. I’ve moved past the initial sadness and find myself excited about what God has for me in my future. I believe He is calling me to something deeper and dare I say better. So here I am navigating this path to love…single…engaging in interesting conversations with great men. Nothing serious yet. A connection may have some strengths but still may not be it. I’ve made a practice of literally checking-in with my vision—does it match or am I trying to fit a square peg in a round hole? I want to accept who people show and tell me they are vs. seeing who I believe they have the potential to be. I am ever aware of time and desire not to waste mine or anyone else’s. Love comes easy, and I believe it should for anyone claiming to have God, who is love, dwelling in their hearts and guiding them on their journey. I’m a nurturer, and I never want to lose my passion for growing and giving in love which is also why Common’s quote resonated.
But…
In modern dating, I see people creating complexities around love that can be confusing. I can’t define love for others, but I see love as a decision and a state of consciousness/existence that clashes with some of my experiences thus far. Is it love we are seeking when we:
create obstacle courses as a precursor for authentic engagement;
request to hide relationship;
want to sample without sacrifice;
take and not give back in the same manner?
treat love as this abstract, far-off concept that remains inaccessible so long as we desire to minimize connection?
If God is not the author of confusion, then I believe the right path to love shouldn’t be either. As humans, we are complex but the decision to embark upon discovering and sharing love with another is not. True, love has levels that grow and deepen with time, but it has to start somewhere. I fear the initial limitations and guardrails we put up in dating, do more to prevent one from ever getting there.
You either want to or you don’t, and I believe you know that from the beginning. I also believe that both are okay. So long as we are open and honest about who we are and what we desire—without creating weird contracts disguised in sexy themes. I realize it may not be appealing for one to say, “I don’t want to love or to be loved. I want a beautiful person to have sex with,” but it is honest, and I think it should be put simply for your own sake and for the sake of the other person. No need to couch it in any grandiose schema because your intentions appear shallow or challenge the notion of being a “good” person. We don’t need to judge or label each other as though one is more sophisticated or mature. My intentions should not make yours bad, weak, or inferior in this arena so long as we are honest and transparent consistently and from the gate.
Permission-to-Play vs. Core Values
In business/leadership, we talk about values. Some values are minimum standards and requirements and some are core. Our core values distinguish us. For example, we might say honesty is a permission-to-play value. It’s not special. It’s what a person should be to have a seat at the table whereas your faith would be considered a core value or a differentiator in who you are as a person.
In dating, I see people confusing the two.
Are you dating just to date (to have fun and connect with sex partners)
or
dating to connect and potentially find a life partner?
Those are two different things that require different values. Clarity flows from your intentions. Regardless of where your intentions are derived from (bitterness, self-discovery, commitment avoidance, fear, etc.), you know the answer to the question. Keep it real—walk in your simple truth. You can’t ask a person to sacrifice core values as a condition for engaging in a superficial connection. And I’m not dumb enough to allow a man to flip the script as though, knowing who I am and what I want makes me demanding or high-maintenance. I know my worth. I know what I bring, and if you want a woman of my caliber, ante up. If you want a woman to sleep with, she’s out there.
As for me…
At my core, I know that I desire a deeper connection with one who exists on a similar spiritual and intellectual level and is committed to showing up for the fun and the work of love. One that ebbs and flows, authentically reciprocating our humanity, recognizing that we are a part of the same ocean. This is a part of loving and accepting myself, unapologetically. I want to share that with my future partner along with all of the other cool, crazy, and complicated parts of me.
When I feel like praying, worshiping, and vibing on God…
When I want to turn my music all the way up for trap, jazz, soul, classic, gospel—whatever the genre…
When I want to write and ask you to read it…
When I want to be held and kissed like a baby…
When I want to go to an amusement park with the kids…
When I want to skip the country…
When I need to go sit with someone who is hurting…
When I want to strategize around making our dreams a reality or growing the seeds we’ve planted for legacy…
There’s so much more…and that’s the thing. I want to be seen and accepted for ALL of who I truly am—no boxes or prisons for the “politically correct” or “socially acceptable”. This has been a part of my own “work”. Being willing to say “I matter” too and not losing myself completely for the needs/shortcomings of another. Not wanting to settle can leave me questioning whether romantic love is even meant for me. Because when I type that stuff up or say it out loud, I start thinking that my vision might be unrealistic (too much)—especially in light of all that I’ve been through, do, and desire to become. The weight and size of my womanhood is ever upon me.
Choosing to bow out and say no, thank you in marriage or in dating is not easy, but it’s about a desire for fulfillment— to have and experience real love. Provided we are equally yoked spiritually and intellectually, I want to create the same space for love and acceptance for my partner to be himself—just not at the expense of my sanity, dignity, self-worth, safety, etc. We all have our own deal breakers (permission-to-play values)…
My experiences so far have surfaced a fear, an anxiety. And that’s weird because I’m arguably one of the strongest and bravest people that I know. But even the seemingly confident, quietly struggle with the residues of rejection, insecurity, failure, pain, unworthiness, etc. I’m scared of never really getting there, and when I say that romantic love may not be for me, it’s out of fear that my desires may be so far fetched in this modern world. What if I never...
Go? See? Have? Become? Do? Create? Start? Succeed at relationships?
I’m nearing “the middle” of my life. I wonder if that’s what these feelings are, fueling a sense of urgency and focus to get after it...but simultaneously...reminding me that this is something I’ve failed at before. It’s a slippery slope...going for it...being willing to try again...requires being willing to fail again—YIKES. When I say I’m scared, I’m not saying I’m hopeless or weak...or that I don’t have faith in God. I know that God hasn’t given me a spirit of fear, but I was created with the emotion.
Even as I type these words I am reminded that the difference lies in feeling fear vs. letting fear have control. I made a deal with myself years ago to never let fear win. Scared or not, I go for it. Sometimes all the more. I floor it and push harder against the current of my fear. Ambitious Courage was a term I coined some years ago when creating my own short list of core values. I would rather live with failing than live with the regret of never trying. I can’t make the shots I don’t take. I suppose it shouldn’t be any different with romantic love. Common’s book was a good refresher on embracing love and reinforcing its existence in every area of my life while standing in/under my truth.
Keeping it real, true, and free,
Garland Darling