08 Aug I love you more… (JORGE & DEMIAN BUCAY)
My wife often has the following ‘argument’ with our older son: He: “I love you Mom.” She: “I love you too, Son.” He (wanting to win at everything): “I love you more.” She: “I’m sorry, Son, but in this case, you have no chance at all.” My wife is right. As much as it may weigh on our son, he’ll only lose this contest over and over again. He’ll never be able to love us more than we love him. Neither more intensely nor in the same way, since his love for us will never be unconditional (and it wouldn’t be healthy if it were). We’ll work on a definition of the feeling we’re talking about (love) later. For now, let’s ask ourselves a question: What does ‘unconditional’ mean? As we understand it, ‘unconditional’ means exactly and literally what the word suggests: a feeling that imposes no conditions. Love that exists, endures, and remains intact regardless of what happens and what the loved one does. It’s clear: Parents will love their children even if they cause them suffering, treat them poorly, never want to speak to them again; in short, even if they don’t love them. Even in the worst-case scenario, parents will continue to love their children. Why? Because that’s the way it is; they’re their kids. Because they were conceived and, more importantly, chosen and adopted by their parents, they are part of them, and that’s irreversible. Some time ago, during therapy, a patient brought up a question that his nine-year-old daughter had asked him. “Daddy, you love me, right?” “A whole lot,” said her father in all sincerity. “More than anyone in the world.” “Why do you love me?” “What a question! Because you’re my daughter!” he said, as though it couldn’t be more obvious. “I already know that,” she said. The girl felt that her father hadn’t answered her question. He’d restated the obvious, which implied that the question was out of place (and though neither of them knew it, this was indeed the case — unconditional love is precisely that which doesn’t need reasons). But the child kept at it. “What I want to know,” she explained, “is what are your reasons for loving me? What about me makes you love me?” This time, her father’s answer didn’t come quite as easily. He had to stop and give it some thought. Perhaps to try and see her as though she weren’t his daughter, as if not loving her would enable him to see all of her desirable qualities, and tell her what they were (in spite of the fact that, in the end, he said that even if she weren’t any of those things, even if she were all the opposite things, he’d still love her). We believe it’s worth asking ourselves where the girl’s question came from, since if you have children, sooner or later you’ll have to answer some version of it. We can logically assume that there will come a time when children get ready to go out into the world and direct their gaze beyond their parents, toward others, and ask themselves if the people they meet will be capable of loving them. The girl understands intuitively that other people won’t love her ‘just because’ (that is, she knows, without knowing why she does, that unconditional love is exclusive to parents). This is precisely why she’s curious about the virtues and desirable traits she has that will interest others.
Of Parents and Children: Tools for Nurturing a Lifelong Relationship
Jorge Bucay& Demian Bucay
