Psychologists view the state of being in love as something akin to a mental illness, in which judgment and a sense of reality break down. I know people who are downright addicted to that famous "butterflies in the stomach" feeling. Some claim that this feeling is a collection of decision-making errors that have evolved to serve genetic interests.
The state of being in love is an elevated level &phenylethylamine and dopamine, which leads to the formation of new neural loops and often difficult-to-understand physiological reactions “to that person.” Sweaty palms and a racing heart—let’s not kid ourselves—are also caused by fear or stress. Often, a realization follows, perhaps even disappointment. And somehow we have to explain it: some call themselves fools, others can’t understand how they could have done it, still others sink into a sense of hurt and anger. These experiences have a right to accumulate in our lives—in fact, they should. It’s harder when we take important steps in this state without giving ourselves the time we deserve—when, for example, a child is conceived, a marriage is entered into, only to fall apart after the first or fourth crisis. Then we are left with a sense of being deceived, misunderstood, and mismatched. Because falling in love is such that when it disappears, we no longer want to build, repair, or wait in its name. It is gone.
Love is a different story. Love is building, respect, an unending—though changing—fascination with another person—perhaps less intense, but certainly deeper. Love is changing for the other person without sacrifice; it is listening to hear, looking to see. It is constant discovery, without fear of seeing the other person against the backdrop of ordinary everyday life. It is working together to be happy. All of this is obvious and nothing new; many have written about it, time and again.
But I am fascinated by love and how people find each other, how they influence one another. Every love is an incredible blend of lives, mechanisms, longings, memories, thoughts—a mix of fairy tales nestled in our minds. Every relationship is a union of two people whose own pasts can, in an instant, make it easier for one make it difficult for the other to simply be happy. It’s hard to understand why the other person is hurt so deeply by something we can pass by indifferently, why something that means little to us is so important to them, why they stubbornly repeat a pattern that causes pain. Only when we truly love do we have the strength to rebuild that pattern, instead of getting angry that we become part of it every time and still fail to understand it with regret.
According to Sternberg, love is nothing more than a combination of passion, commitment, and intimacy. It would seem that each of these states carries too much for an ordinary person to bear and feel, and yet most of us treat ourselves to a unique blend of the three. Because passion is not only desire, excitement, and joy, but also difficult longing, anxiety, and jealousy. Because intimacy is not just about discovering the fascinating corners of the other person’s soul; it is not just that wonderful and safe closeness; it is also often the very difficult task of understanding them. Because commitment is not just a conscious decision to make this relationship lasting; it is also the effort of explaining, overcoming, and facing a more or less gray day.
We know many divisions and classifications regarding love. Sometimes I wonder if they aren’t too simple to be real…
Despite a relationship spanning several years and his incredible love and devotion, deep down she doesn’t really believe it can work, that she is so special that someone might want to spend their life with her. Even though she wants this more than anything else, she makes moves that confirm the pattern—she’ll be rejected, replaced by someone better, more attractive, who’s just waiting. Will he manage to stay out of this game and remain with her—growing safer, calmer, and more loved? Will she be able to free herself from her pattern?
Maniacal love (a mixture of eros—the love of fascination—and ludus—the love of play) is intense and obsessive. Often, the thought of the other person means a constant fear of losing them. Love is a necessity for partners to constantly sustain their feelings and attention, as well as to constantly, often exhaustingly, dispel doubts regarding fidelity, commitment, plans, and existence. Shaver would likely conclude that she is a representative of the anxious attachment style, characterized by the individual’s strong desire to get close to their partner, yet their fear and frequent worry that the partner does not truly love them.
She was raised in a home where nothing was lacking, where her father, despite the hardest times, always found a way, a solution. Today, she dreams of fulfilling herself professionally, having children with him, and not having to worry about mundane things. And he, sometimes a little forgotten and lonely, loves and knows that he is loved.
Pragma, to quote Lee, is the fruit of the union of ludus and storge; it is so-called practical love. For such people, love is an investment, a balance sheet of gains and losses. They are only capable of forming a true relationship with someone suitable in terms of background and living conditions. That is simply how they love. They are lucky if they find someone to complete the picture—someone who feels loved through giving and caring.
He fell in love with her, and at home he was taught that love is synonymous with “forever.” He could be a caricatured illustration of Father Twardowski’s poem, which reads, “Forget that you exist when you say you love.” Perhaps he didn’t even fully know who he was. He loved that she was so spontaneous and expressive. He was capable of doing anything for her, giving up everything, forgetting everything—even himself. She didn’t refuse. That was how he knew how to show his love.
Apage is self-sacrificing love, a combination of eros and storge, full of devotion and care. In this love, one thinks of their partner’s happiness without expecting anything in return.
She is happy with him, yet somewhere deep down, despite the passing of time, she cannot bring herself to show him just how important he is to her. She is strong and independent, yet just as afraid of being alone. She doesn’t make plans for the future—even though sometimes she even longs for that. She is close, yet safely distant. Of course, she could try, following Shaker and Mikulincer’s “hyperactivation strategy,” to intensify the basic strategy and force her partner to behave according to her intentions, to give her what she needs, or a “deactivation strategy” involving shutting down the entire system to spare himself the suffering, pain, and frustration of failing to achieve his goal. He could learn to live like that… Or maybe he’ll manage to make her not be afraid to depend on him sometimes, and he’ll be able to feel masculine and irreplaceable not just in bed? Maybe he’ll manage to teach her that showing affection doesn’t weaken his position—quite the opposite…
Shaver would say that she loves in an avoidant style, because she finds it hard to truly trust, she feels uncomfortable with intimacy, and Bardis would likely add that “she loves with the love of Zeus,” that is, an incomplete love that underestimates non-physical needs. Perhaps one day they will manage to reenact the love of Orpheus and Eurydice, considered a complete love, inwhich the partners satisfy all their physical, psychological, and social needs at a high level. Does that even happen?
He was a handsome guy, she was a beautiful girl. They were close and understood each other perfectly. She loved to cuddle up to him and sit in silence together or talk about anything. She couldn’t understand how he could be missing something in such an amazing relationship. The Penelope type adores intimacy and the fulfillment of psychological and social needs. With this person, you’ll spend many amazing evenings, solve more than a few problems, and find closeness and understanding. She, however, doesn’t appreciate the magic of physicality; she doesn’t know how to use it or benefit from it. What will happen next with this pairing of two such different people?
Of course, in every relationship, you can experience different kinds of love. Because every adult “self” isn’t a blank page, but more like pages from a coloring book. You can choose the colors, someone can help you with that, but the general outline is known.
Each of us has our own love story that we try to bring to life. It could be a fairy tale about a prince and a princess or anything else. The point is to succeed in a relationship, and this largely depends on the compatibility of both partners’ love stories.
What is your ideal of love? What do you consider typical love? Intimacy, understanding, giving and receiving (i.e., typically feminine), or do you cherish a vision of passion, love at first sight that lasts forever (i.e., like most men)? Perhaps such a simple, generalizing division irritates you… However, whether you like it or not, research shows that couples who perceive love more prototypically enjoy greater satisfaction and report greater mutual love, and when the prototypical characteristics of love are challenged, the feeling seems severely compromised.
What is your fairy tale about love? Perhaps if you love someone, you fear losing them just as strongly? Maybe you’re spinning a tale about a garden, where a relationship must be constantly tended and nurtured? Maybe your fairy tale is one of mystery, where love is a riddle and you shouldn’t reveal too much about yourself so as not to lose that atmosphere? Or maybe someone has instilled in you a fairy tale about a policeman, according to which you should keep an eye on your partner, making sure they’re being watched over? Perhaps you’re living a fairy tale about sacrifice, so you give yourself entirely to the other person? Maybe someone once sold you a fairy tale about recipes, and along with it, a specific way of nurturing a relationship so it has a chance to succeed? Maybe for you, love is a story about a work of art, where feelings are based on physical attraction that needs to be nurtured? Or maybe you like the fairy tale about a collection—your partner simply fits the mold, so that’s enough for you? Maybe a long time ago you believed in the fairy tale about business, where a relationship is a business proposal, or you trusted the fairy-tale story, the one about a princess and unrealistic achievements? Or perhaps you’re living out a fairy tale where love is a game, leading you to believe it’s some kind of sport, or a story about power dynamics, where you play one of the roles: you dominate or are dominated? Or perhaps your drawers are full of mementos, some more important than others, and your head is full of various memories, because for you, love is a historical narrative forming an unforgettable sequence? Or maybe someone once infected you with a horror story in which a relationship becomes interesting when an element of blackmail or terror enters the picture? Or maybe someone instilled in you a humorous tale according to which love is simply funny? Maybe someone once did you a dubious favor and let you believe in a pornographic fairy tale about how love is dirty, and sex is a choice between humiliating or being humiliated? Maybe you were fed a fairy tale about love—a religion in which the feeling must be worshipped, professed, and acted upon in its name; perhaps, in your view, religion governs this feeling? Perhaps you believe in a science-fiction fairy tale, because long ago you came to believe that your partner is really someone from another planet, a bit strange and often incomprehensible? Or maybe you’re reenacting a fairy tale about aa student and a teacher, because for you, someone must always be the teacher, and someone the student of love? Perhaps someone taught you a story about sewing, where love is only what you create yourself, or a story about the theater, according to which this feeling has a script and predictable acts that unfold, and a person’s task is to act them out as best as possible? Maybe yet another one?
Surely, like all of us, you weave these fairy tales together in a way known only to yourself, creating your own unique…
I wish you perfect love, which begins to exist when you strive for it. It cannot be possessed or obtained. You feel it most clearly when you nurture it, create it, change yourself, and someone changes for you, and you rejoice in how much you receive… and give in return. Do you know this feeling?
Dr. Magdalena Felcyn-Koczewska
