I always thought that my love language was of the “Your tacos are delicious” variety. Also maybe “Let’s go out for tacos together.” I thought I was, as my mother assumed I would be, a bit high maintenance and that I encompassed all of the love languages, both taco and otherwise.  It turns out, however, that it was a bit more likely that I just didn’t know myself at all.

 

I was a relatively emotionally aware kid. And I assumed I continued to grow in this area. But after getting married, having kids, epically failing at life, hitting some peaks, and a few more epic failings… I came to realize that life as a grown-up is neatly summed up in the wise words of Nitya Prakash,

 

“Adulthood is like looking both ways before crossing the street and then getting hit by an airplane.”

 

While the last few years have been unbelievably hard in, well, most ways, they did provide me with a desperation so overwhelming, that I had no choice but to figure out how to better fill my cup….or at least plug the hole that it seemed to be leaking through.  After a few (many) complete and utter breakdowns, I realized that while I love gifts and love giving them, what I really needed was “I made you tacos” kind of love.  Even more importantly, “I saw you were having a rough day, so I did the dishes, vacuumed, fed the kids and poured you an adult beverage so maybe you can breathe” kind of love.

 

It turns out, a lot of my inability to manage the chaos of my emotions, and feeling of dread thinking about anything at all, really stemmed from misunderstanding myself and what I needed. I feel seen when my husband sees something that needs to be done and just does it.  He’s always been great and telling me how much he appreciates me and all I do.  And I need that, too. But when we both realized what I was really missing, it was a game changer! 

 

Is it always perfect? No. Some proof being the dishes strike I’ve been on in an attempt to outwait my teenager, the basket of laundry that’s been sitting on the floor waiting to be folded because, well, laundry is straight from the depths of hell and I will claim that until Jesus comes. But because my partner in this crazy life is actively working to see me, and find ways to make me feel safe, loved and appreciated, everything else is just not as big of a deal.  I’m more in love with him than any other time in our relationship. Because we are both striving to see each other, fill each other up, give each other attention, and even space when that’s what we need.  And some days, the dishes don’t get done (lots of days).  Some days, we (I) forget about the vegetables we (I) bought and they die a slow and smelly death in the crisper.  Some days, we get it all done and enjoy it for the seven minutes it lasts before all the teenagers wake up or get home.  But we feel lighter, because we aren’t always running on empty anymore. And when we are, we know we aren’t alone, that we’re more together, and that there is still sunshine peeking through in the form of the little things that matter to us both. And love. Knowing that this love keeps growing, and changing and filling the empty spaces, makes the dirty dishes and astronomical grocery bills and teenage angst a little bit easier to trudge through.

 

So, lean in. Lean in to find out what version of the taco love language makes you feel like your best self, makes you smile like only tacos can, and then fill your soul as much as your belly. 

 

“Love is a two way street constantly under construction.”

Carroll Bryant