I'm speaking a new love language

The love language of 'self'.

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I'm speaking a new love language

I’ve become multilingual in love languages.

I know that my husband loves it when I bake granola or hand him a cup of tea or make plans to see people he likes, and so I try to do this fairly often.

And I know my daughter loves to be listened to, properly, so I carve out time for her, put on my coaching hat and listen: fully, deeply - reflecting back her thoughts.

I know that my middle boy’s love language is Minecraft. When I sit next to him, on his bed, and enter that world with him, he is smitten.

For my youngest, touch matters. Offering a piggy-back rather than waiting for him to ask. Tickling him. Having him on my lap while he eats his breakfast.

I speak the love language of my husband and children, and I try to speak the love language of my wider family and friends.

Because it matters to me that people feel loved, in the ways that works for them.

But I have realised there’s a love language I’ve not learned so well, and that my love language.

Not the love language I want others to speak (literally: words of affirmation) but the loving gestures I’d like to make towards myself.

So, here’s my new love language - my new commitment to me:

The love language of self