Receiving Love.

Lately, I’ve been noticing that I have difficulty receiving compliments. Someone might shower me with praise for something I did, and while I’ll say “thank you,” I often brush off the compliment before truly letting it land. If you’ve ever given me a compliment, you’ve probably witnessed that pattern.

I don’t fully believe the old adage, “It’s better to give than to receive.” I think we need to be able to do both. Life is about flowing with opposites—inhale and exhale, expansion and contraction, happiness and sadness, clarity and confusion. For one side of the spectrum to exist, the other must too. But I digress.

So, why do I have trouble receiving love from others? And what does that have to do with my grief?

This morning, the answer came to me: There’s a part of my heart that feels I can send all my love to Lauren, and she can receive it, but I can’t receive it back from her. Shutting down my receptivity protects my heart from being hurt again.

That makes perfect sense. It allows me to keep going without burning out. I can put my head down and write these weekly emails or run my peer support group from a place of giving—of sending love outward.

But there’s a caveat. I am open to receiving love and compliments from those who were in my life before Lauren died—my wife, my parents, old friends. They’ve been grandfathered into my love circle because they’ve walked this journey with me. Since Lauren’s death, my heart has definitely learned how to protect itself.

Here’s the beautiful thing, though: now that I’m aware of the pattern, I can change it. And over the years, I have been changing it. Opening my heart to receive takes practice. So when someone offers love or praise, I take a moment to let it land. I take a few breaths with the person and let them in—because letting them in is an act of both giving and receiving.

It’s a gift for them to give, and it’s a gift for me to receive.