The wrong way to love

In our culture, love is supposed to make a mess of us. It comes with a built-in excuse for acting out every passing feeling, no matter how far-fetched or fear-based it may be. But love doesn't have to be that way! Rhonda Britten, author of Fearless Loving: 8 Simple Truths That Will Change the Way You Date, Mate, and Relate, explains!

Feelings lie

I was twenty-four years old when my boyfriend, Jim, seemed to be slipping away from me. I had recently moved to Los Angeles, and he was one of the first people I met. With no friends to speak of, I hung onto Jim more for security than love, but I didn't know it at the time. I was convinced that if he would make me feel loved I would find happiness.

Wanting to appear more confident than I was, I told him I didn't mind if he stayed good friends with his ex-girlfriend. Then one evening, longing for more attention, I began to question him about his ex. Things quickly escalated, and soon I was yelling at him. "You're with me now. And I don't care what I said about it before, you cannot talk to her. If you do, it just proves you are lying to me about loving me. No one who loves me would treat me this way."

In disbelief, he turned to me and quietly said, "I don't know why you're so angry, but it has nothing to do with me." And he walked out the door.

Stunned and ashamed, I secretly knew he was right and loathed myself even more. It felt like another slap in the face in a long line of disappointments. I couldn't stand the thought of living with myself another minute. I grabbed the nearest bottle of pills and systematically took one after the other until the entire contents were in my stomach. I was glad I was going to die. I hated feeling so much longing, sadness, shame and frustration. It was an unbearable mix of emotions I had to cut off any way I could. I believed I was at the mercy of my feelings. They seemed overpowering as they pushed me around, blamed me for everything, and proved to me that I could not be loved. It was better not to feel at all than to feel as much as I did.

But it was not to be. In the heat of the argument, Jim had forgotten his car keys and instead of escaping he was now forced to face me. Waving the empty pill bottle in his face, I mumbled something about how he would regret it and was secretly pleased that he could see what he had done to me. I was just about to gloat some more when he lifted me over his shoulder and carried me out to his car. I fought him, kicking and screaming, wanting to once again show him how much misery he had caused me. In minutes we approached the emergency room of the local hospital. Perhaps he does love me after all, I thought. Maybe he wants me to live because he can't bear the thought of being without me. Then Jim unceremoniously dumped me on the curb and drove away, leaving me to the nurses.

What I had feared was true. He didn't love me. And if he didn't love me, who would? I had moved to Los Angeles to hide from myself, and now it appeared my plan hadn't worked. Afraid of being alone, I had attempted to strip myself of any part of me I found unacceptable. I meant to become the perfect girlfriend so that someone would love me. Instead, I ended up being a shell of who I really was, and pretending the drama I acted out with Jim was passion. My fears were running the show.

Love is more than a feeling

At the time of my suicide attempt with Jim, I was completely controlled by my feelings. I couldn't identify them, I couldn't process them, I couldn't distinguish between drama and passion, desire and loneliness, love and fear. It was all just a throbbing mess, so it must be love!

One thing is certain: I wasn't alone. In our culture, love is supposed to make a mess of us. It comes with a built-in excuse for acting out every passing feeling, no matter how far-fetched or fear-based it may be. We can't help it, the theory goes, because when we're in love we "go out of our heads" and without a head, all we've got is feelings. We expect to be swept away and to lose control. In fact, we welcome all the confusion. We interpret being out of control as the litmus test of true love, the sign that we've got the real thing.

There is nothing in this world that equals the rush of falling in love, that's for sure. Yet when our desire for love is driven by fear, our feelings of worthlessness or being unlovable can warp our perception of what love is. And without anything to balance our feelings out, such as commitment, intellect and self-love -- they can dominate our senses and override our best interests. Feelings can convince us to stay when we should leave and to settle for less than we deserve. They can even convince us to reject love if it doesn't feel exactly the way we imagine a true love should.

That's how it is for most of us. We let our feelings rule our relationships because we believe they are the most reliable barometer of romance. When things feel good, we stay committed, put in a lot of effort, and are generous and loving. When things feel bad we withdraw, shrug off our promises, become hostile, or cheat. Or we focus all our energy on getting back the supercharged buzz of feelings we had at the beginning of the relationship, never staying in the present long enough to see it for what it is today. Sometimes we stay in a relationship that doesn't really work because it is better to feel something, anything, than to feel nothing at all. When we let feelings run our relationships, they often do a terrible job.

Do you believe love is a feeling? It is, of course. But it is so much more than that. Love is equal parts emotion, commitment, actions, and intellect. It is attitude, energy, and a path. It is at the core of every spiritual philosophy. It expands our heart and is the reason we connect. Love is who we are.

We have a choice.

When we love fearlessly, we can experience our feelings in all their depth and passion without letting them control us. We can recognize that feelings are not facts, they are reactions to the world. We can understand that there is more to love than feeling either blissed-out or desperate, that it is a state of being we create and nourish. When love is based in freedom, we are its partner, not its slave. Our commitments do not waver depending on whether or not it feels good that day. Inspired by freedom, our feelings can guide us to make wise choices about love, even though we have been taught that we have no choice, love just is.

Feelings have the power to awaken, heal, and transform a relationship if only we channel the insights they provide. The challenge is to honor our feelings yet act on our commitments.

Fearbuster exercise: Identify your feelings

Identifying your feelings is a critical step in dismantling your Wheel of Fear and approaching other people from a loving and fearless place. For the next twenty-four hours, I'd like you to identify a separate feeling for every hour (or more often if you prefer). Don't get out the dictionary; this is an opportunity to define feelings for yourself, and your definition is all that matters. Be as specific as you can, and when you're done, tally up the five most frequently felt emotions.

If you need help getting started, think of a situation in your past. Now shut your eyes and imagine the situation happening right now. How do you feel? Identifying how you felt in a past situation gives you a safe way to practice. Don't get distracted dwelling in the past, however you're just tuning up for your twenty-four-hour experiment in feeling identification.

Here's a list of feelings to help you along. Feel free to add your own.

affectionate ambivalent angry anxious ashamed beautiful betrayed bitter brave calm capable cheated childish comfortable competitive confident content criticized defeated depressed desperate determined discouraged disturbed embarrassed empathetic empty envious excited exposed flustered foolish frantic frustrated glad grateful greedy guilty happy hateful hopeful hopeless humble humiliated hurt hysterical ignored inadequate incompetent inferior insecure insignificant inspired irritated intimidated jaded jealous joyful judged lonely loved lustful mean melancholy misunderstood needed needy nervous obsessed oppressed optimistic ostracized overwhelmed passionate powerful powerless pressured relaxed relieved resentful restless sad satisfied selfish sexy solemn stupid suspicious swamped sympathetic tempted tense threatened trapped ugly uncertain understood unloved upset uptight victorious vindictive vulnerable wanted worried worthless worthy

Notice that the words afraid, fearful, frightened, scared, and terrified are not on the list. If possible, I want you to challenge yourself to go beyond these general descriptions of fear. They are usually covering up a core negative feeling you are truly afraid to face. If those words come up for you, fill in the blanks:

I'm afraid (fearful, frightened) that _______. If that happens, _________________________________________. Repeat the phrase until you get to the feeling underneath your fears.

For example: .I'm afraid that I will be rejected. If I'm rejected, people will know I'm inadequate.. The feeling you are hiding from is inadequacy. Or: .I'm frightened of letting go. If I let go, everything is hopeless.. The feeling you don't want to admit you feel is hopelessness.

If you find yourself choosing the same words over and over again, I invite you to dig deeper and find the most accurate feeling to describe that state of mind. Do the same exercise, repeating it until you come up with a different, more specific word. For example, if uncertain keeps coming up, you might write, .I feel uncertain. When that happens, people will know I'm weak.. This will help you identify how you clump feelings together, mislabel them, or disregard feelings altogether.

The thin line between love and fear

When you can honestly identify your feelings, a new level of power will open up to you. You will move through confusion more quickly and find it easier to stay on your true path. Nowhere is this more crucial than in relationships, where fear-based feelings often camouflage issues we don't want to confront.