The Sixth Love Language

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Cover of "The 5 Love Languages: The Secre...

I read Gary Chapman’s The 5 Love Languages about a year after my divorce. Chapman proposes that we each have a primary love language that we are best able to receive: acts of service, words of affirmation, gifts, quality time and physical touch. I read the book with one eye on the past, analyzing patterns in my marriage and one eye on the future, looking for current applications of the book.

Both perspectives proved to be interesting.

With my ex, I had to learn how to give and receive physical affection, as that love language was important to him. It’s strange that he was my teacher in that language: I came from an affectionate family and he came from a “hands off” environment. I guess that goes to show that nature can override nurture! Apart from physical touch, we were pretty balanced on love languages. I don’t think either one of us had one stand out more than another and I don’t think either of us ever felt like we couldn’t understand the language of the other. Our issue was that he didn’t reveal the truth. His love languages said one thing while concealing his actions, which said something quite different.

The book had more to say about my developing relationship with Brock. He didn’t do so well with physical touch and I had trouble at times reading his other gestures. The book helped to give me perspective and to look for his expressions of love in other ways. They were there all along, I just didn’t always see them. His love languages may have been a whisper to me, but mine were an overwhelming shout to him. I had to learn to tone it down while he had to learn to dial it up.  We have found a balance and it has had more to do with the recognition of how the other expresses love and the understanding of how it is received than of trying to change the languages we each speak.

I like using the concept of love languages like I use other labels: as sticky notes, temporary shorthand used until I have gained full understanding. The love languages are simplistic by design, reducing our complexities into rather small categories. Although you probably identify more strongly with one or two of the languages, you can most likely relate to all of them at times. They can be useful, especially in newer relationships, as you try to understand how your partner communicates and receives love.

ASL short for "I love you"

But eventually, the sticky notes should be removed so that you can see your partner for all of who he/she is and not just as a love language. And that’s when the sixth love language develops – the one that is unique to your relationship. That language is formed from the shared history, the private words, the successes and even the pitfalls. Its vocabulary is built from experiences; its syntax comes from understanding and compromise. As it is a new language, there will be errors in grammar or diction. It’s okay. Keep trying; the language will continue to develop and grow along with the relationship. It is a language that no one else can speak. If the relationship dies, the dialect dies with it.

As you move into a new relationship, one of the challenges is forgetting your former love language and clearing the slate for a new tongue. Be patient. It takes time to get to know someone and even more time to create a language together (there is no Rosetta Stone for love languages!).

Be sure to listen. Don’t be afraid to try. And remember to laugh when you make mistakes. It takes time to learn a new language but it’s always worth it:)

How to Apply Labels

Posted on by stilllearning2b

As a teacher, I am quite familiar with the application of labels. Each summer, prior to ever meeting my new students, I study the rosters. Many of the names have associated labels next to them: ADHD, learning disability, autistic, ESOL, etc. These labels are helpful when these children are nothing more than a list of names. It is a starting point.

When I learn that hypothetical Johnny has ADHD, I use that information when I create my first seating chart. I know that he might be a good choice to run an errand to the front office or to help me hand out papers. I won’t be surprised at an off-topic outburst and I’ll have strategies at hand for how to handle one if it occurs. Before ever meeting Johnny, I can have an idea of some of his characteristics and I can plan ahead to meet his needs. However, it would be completely inappropriate for me to stop there. Johnny may have ADHD but he is not his label. As I get to know him, the label loses its importance. The diagnosis tells me nothing of Johnny’s strengths and weaknesses, his adaptive behaviors, his likes and dislikes or especially his personality.

A label should be an anchor, not a limitation.

Whenever I plan a lesson that introduces a new math concept, I start by anchoring the new material to prior knowledge. When I tell students that the new concept is like something they have seen before, it gives them a place to start. Then, as they learn the new material, they can adjust the expectations laid out by the early comparison.

Labels work that same way – they initiate expectations that should be tempered with experience.

When I tell you I am a teacher, you have a starting point for understanding me. You know that I’ve been to college. You can assume that I’m a people person. Maybe you think of a particular teacher in your past. Then, I tell you I grew up in the 1980s. Maybe that causes a revision of your earlier expectations or maybe it just allows you to flesh things out, as you make decisions about what music I may listen to or how I wear my hair. We can continue that process, with each label adding more information and more clarification. Eventually, you would know me and those labels would be inconsequential. Until you were trying to describe me to someone else, that is.

Labels can help us find understanding.

When I went through my divorce, I grasped at labels to describe my husband. I realized that he was not all of the things I thought he was. He was a stranger. So, like we all do when first getting to know someone, I turned to labels to try to develop a framework to anchor new understanding. My favorite designation for him was sociopath. It explained the callousness and extreme nature of the betrayal. It was a starting point. But not the end. As with all labels, some parts fit and others didn’t. As I worked to get to “know” him again, I revised my views, adding some terms and removing others, until the labels no longer mattered.

I use labels when I write about my story. I temper the word ‘divorce’ with ‘tsunami’ to capture the suddenness of my experience. I use the label ‘trauma’ to convey the overwhelming loss. I recently introduced the term ‘PTSD,’ not as a diagnosis, but as a framework to discuss the anxiety and flashbacks that permeated my existence. Those single words hold pages of information. It is a kind of shorthand – a broad strokes sketch of the entire story.

Labels are like Cliff Notes. We use them as shortcuts as we develop our own understanding or to help someone else develop theirs. Just like Cliff Notes, they are not the entire story, full of detail and nuance. If we stop at labels, we are limiting ourselves and others. We may be blinded by assumptions as we fill in the gaps in our knowledge automatically.

Don’t be afraid to use labels but also be careful not to apply them with superglue. They should be used to anchor understanding, not to limit understanding.