I’ve written about it before her: people love in their language.
I want to take my wife pumpkin picking and carving tomorrow. If it was me, I’d want to be surprised. I like the adrenaline rush that kicks in the moment I realize something loving has been done just for me, with me and my me-ness in mind.
She’s not like that. For her, the love is drawn out – that’s when it’s heard best, loudest for her. That’s when love resounds greatest with her. When her IPSY bag comes, she gets as much excitement from the anticipation, the genius-level of vivid that her imaginative capacities provide. The surprise would eliminate all that for her… and would eliminate my chance to bear witness to the beauty. The surprise is not fulfilling enough, it doesn’t fit her. That’s not to say there are levels of fulfillment – that mine or her’s is somehow better – but there is differentiation. In education, differentiation means “start where they are.” In love, differentiation means “speak their language.”
So I told her yesterday.