Who Taught You How to Love?
And have you ever questioned what they taught you?
Brittany A. Moore
8/10/20264 min read
Who taught you how to love? Seriously. Think about it.
Most of us have spent years trying to get relationships “right” without ever stopping to ask who gave us the definition of right in the first place. We weren't born knowing what a relationship is supposed to look like. We learned. We watched. We listened. We absorbed. Long before most of us ever fell in love, we were already being taught what love was supposed to be.
Maybe you watched your parents. Maybe you watched your grandparents. Maybe you learned from the relationships around you. Or from the absence of them. Maybe you learned from religion. Culture. Gender roles. Music. Movies. Television. Social media. Maybe you learned from your first heartbreak. And some of the strongest lessons probably weren't taught to you directly at all. Nobody had to sit you down and say, “Love means sacrificing yourself for another person.” Maybe you simply watched someone you loved do it over and over again. Nobody had to tell you that if someone really loves you, they should automatically know what you need. Maybe you learned that from every love story where the perfect partner somehow always knew exactly what to say, exactly what to do, and exactly when to do it. Maybe nobody explicitly taught you that jealousy means someone cares, that possessiveness is passion, that fighting means a relationship is unhealthy. Or that screaming at each other and having great makeup sex means the relationship is passionate. Maybe nobody told you that men shouldn't be vulnerable. That women should be accommodating. That one person should provide while the other nurtures. That marriage is the ultimate proof of commitment. That sex should always happen spontaneously. That desire should come naturally if you're attracted to your partner. That monogamy is the only legitimate expression of commitment. That wanting space means something is wrong. That asking for reassurance makes you needy. That needing someone makes you weak. That being loved means being chosen above everyone else. Maybe you just... learned it.
And then one day you entered a relationship carrying an entire rulebook you didn't even realize you had. The person across from you brought one too. And now you're both trying to love each other according to rules neither of you consciously wrote.
We Inherit More Than We Realize
This is part of why relationships can become so confusing.
Two people can genuinely love each other and still have completely different definitions of what love is supposed to look like. To one person, love means checking in throughout the day. To another, love means trusting each other enough not to need constant contact. One person grew up believing conflict should be addressed immediately. The other learned that when emotions get intense, you walk away until everyone calms down. One person experiences providing financially as love. Another experiences emotional presence as love. One person believes commitment means building your entire life together. Another believes a healthy relationship should preserve a great deal of independence. Neither person necessarily entered the relationship thinking: Here are my beliefs about intimacy, commitment, conflict, sex, gender, independence, and partnership. They just showed up with them. And then we wonder why someone we love can behave in a way that feels completely incomprehensible to us.
Sometimes we're not fighting about what just happened. We're fighting about what we believe what happened means.
But This Isn't About Blaming Whoever Taught You
I want to be careful here. “Unlearning” doesn't mean everything you were taught was wrong. It doesn't mean blaming your parents for your relationships. It doesn't mean rejecting tradition simply because it's traditional. It doesn't mean monogamy is outdated, marriage is oppressive, independence is superior, or that whatever is unconventional must automatically be more evolved. Some of what you inherited may fit you beautifully. You may examine a belief you've carried your entire life and decide: Yes. I still believe this. Great. Keep it.
The question isn't whether your beliefs are traditional or progressive. The question is whether they're actually yours. Because there's a difference between choosing something and simply never realizing you had another choice.
Do These Beliefs Still Belong to You?
That's the question I'm interested in.
Not:
What kind of relationship should you have?
But:
What kind of relationship do you actually want?
Not:
What should commitment look like?
But:
What makes you feel committed to and what are you willing to commit to in return?
Not:
How often should couples have sex?
But:
What does a fulfilling sexual relationship actually look and feel like for you?
Not:
Should you stay or should you leave?
But:
What do you need in order to make a decision that feels honest and aligned with who you are?
Those questions are harder. It would be much easier if somebody could simply hand us the correct rules. But that's also why I don't believe my job as a coach is to tell someone what their relationship should look like. My job isn't to replace one rulebook with mine. It's to help you notice the one you're already carrying. To get curious about where those rules came from. To notice how they show up in your body, your choices, your relationships, your sexuality, your expectations, and your conflicts.
And then to ask: Is this still working for me?
Maybe That's Where Unlearning Begins
Unlearning doesn't mean throwing everything away. Sometimes it means keeping something but choosing it consciously for the first time. Sometimes it means realizing that a belief once protected you but no longer serves you. Sometimes it means discovering that something you've spent years trying to want isn't actually what you want at all. And sometimes it means recognizing that the person you're with isn't necessarily loving you incorrectly. They may simply be loving you according to a completely different rulebook. That doesn't mean every difference can, or should, be reconciled. But understanding the difference gives us somewhere much more honest to begin.
So before we talk about communicating better, choosing better partners, having better sex, setting boundaries, navigating jealousy, repairing conflict, or creating healthier relationships, I think there's a question worth sitting with: Who taught you how to love?
And maybe an even more important one: Have you ever stopped to decide what you actually want to keep?
Welcome back to Love, Unlearned.
Let's keep questioning the rules we never remember agreeing to.
—Professor Love (get it? Brittany A. Moore = Amor = Love...??? 🥴)