Love between people provides a special kind of bridge that spans the great chasm of individual aloneness and links the isolated islands of our separate lives. Through a connection felt in the heart, love can bring us together to form a creative, harmonious union and relieve or eliminate the pain of loneliness. But we are not born with the ability to experience the connection that acts as that kind of bridge; the art of loving has to be learned, if it is to serve as an effective and lasting link.

            Initiation to learning to love begins shortly after we are born when we hear our parents or caretakers tell us they love us. We become familiar with the word, but as children, we cannot associate the word with a familiar feeling. Familiarity with emotions needs to be developed just as familiarity with bodily sensations do. For example, it generally takes two or three years or more to learn all the sensations and muscular activities necessary to identify and control elimination. Learning to love takes much longer.

            The child who has learned to speak may imitate parents and say, "I love you, mommy," or "I love you, daddy" and try to ape what parents look like when they use the word "love." Or the child may have observed that saying those words while looking smilingly up at their faces yields smiles and expressions of satisfaction - rewarding indications of security that the child needs for developing positive self-regard. Clearly, the word "love" does not mean the same for the child as it does for the parent, unless the parent has never grown up and seeks to receive parental care from the child.

            Ask a child, "Do you want to hear about my day?" and the clearly disinterested child will turn away to its toys or friends. I have yet to meet a child of any age who sincerely wants to hear about what makes the adult feel good or bad, unless it is directly related to the child and the child's feelings of security and being cared for. That is true even among young adolescents. Not many teens, at the end of the day, question their parents with sincere, selfless interest, "How was your day? Tell me about it." If they do ask, the feigned concern is likely to be a scheming prelude to their asking for something, such as money, permission to do something unusual, or to borrow the car for the evening.

            In contrast, when a mature parent or teacher asks a child, "How was your day?" the question generally arises from a sincere interest, and eyes and ears are open in anticipation of the response. A child who has immature parents (who themselves need to be parented) can learn to appear sincerely interested, but it is an act to ensure being provided for. Most of us ask out of a real desire to know, and we are prepared to just listen or offer guidance, comfort, or words of encouragement when they seem appropriate. When we say, "I love you" to our children, we usually mean something like, "You are precious to me, I honor you, I treasure you, I respect you, I care for you, I am interested in you and your life, your welfare is exceedingly important to me, and I am prepared to support your development in any way I can, limited only by the attention I must pay to my own soul." Mature love that accompanies an evolved relationship involves empathy and accepts differences. For example, we may pursue extensive explorations to try to understand a loved one's behaviors that may appear strange, incongruous or foreign to us. Or, even if we dislike tomatoes ourselves, we will gladly serve them to a loved one who is fond of them.

            What, then, does it mean when a child says, "I love you, mommy?" As sweet and as convincing as it sounds, the child's assertion means simply, "I NEED you to love me and take care of me, mommy." The adult sees the child -- the symbolic representation of the future -- as precious; for the child, the adult is essential for survival. Do something that the child dislikes or interprets as neglectful, and the child will just as readily say (if it feels safe), "I hate you, mommy!" which we can interpret to mean, "I hate that you seem not to be taking care of me the way I want!"

            The word LOVE has many common applications. People use the word in comments like, "I love my daughter." "I just love my dentist!" "I love your shoes!" "I really loved that play!" "I love chocolate chip cookies!" "I love the feel of velvet!" "I love gardening!" "I love to hike!" or "I love getting high!" When we have had the experience of satisfying a pleasure spot, an enjoyable activity, or a longing, the appreciation or enjoyment may be so great that we call our response to it "love." When applied to a concept or a thing, "love" surely implies a high degree of satisfaction, but it is, in a sense, a passive satisfaction; a concept or thing offers no return response to us. But when we talk about loving another person, the word carries a far more complex meaning, because other people have their own feelings and reactions that get fed back to us to add to the complex stew of what that love means to us.

            For purposes of this paper, I would like to limit the discussion to the feelings that are experienced between people and to define LOVE to mean -- at the very least -- selfless honoring of, heartfelt concern for, unconditional positive regard for, respect for, and ability to empathize with the person(s) loved. It implies acceptance of and respect for the loved one's strengths and weaknesses and especially their attitudes, expressions, feelings, beliefs, and ideas that are different from those of ourselves and others.

            As stated earlier, this kind of love is not inborn; it is learned. It takes many years and a series of painful experiences to develop the ability to give love and to fully understand what it means to receive it. In childhood, we need to be loved in order to develop inner strength, positive self-esteem, the ability to take responsibility for our acts, and the courage to strive for our goals. Having a very limited concept of relationships, the child is entirely self-absorbed and lives in a natural state of narcissism. In adolescence we tend to interpret parental love as an effort of the parents to control our lives, and we struggle against being controlled and manipulated. This so-called rebelliousness is nature's apparent insistence that we begin to learn to become independent, so that we can ultimately survive without our parents' guidance.

            The process of learning to love usually starts to gain momentum in adolescence, when our intimacy interests turn from the immediate family outward, usually toward peers. During adolescence we find ourselves developing close relationships with others. Connections can get very tight, and intimacy means confiding, exploring mutual interests, and bonding emotionally and physically. During teen years, most of us become involved with peers who themselves seek similar contacts and relationships. Many of those relationships end in a relatively short period of time, and endings tend to be painful. We go through inner hell wondering what went wrong, feeling angry and sad, blaming the other person and/or ourselves, and doubting both our own and the other person's sincerity and ability to really care for someone else. We question whether having the relationship is worth the struggles and pains we have to endure.

            In peer-to-peer adolescent relationships, the progression leading to the beginning of the ability to love goes something like this: "I love you. [I.e., I need you to love me.] You are supposed to love me back. [I.e., You are supposed to give me unconditional parental love, but not act demanding like a parent.] It is confusing that you ask things of me that do not initiate in me. [I.e., I have been the center of attention up until now, and you act as if you might have a similar idea about yourself. Who do you think you are!?] I want what I want, and I'm not getting it, so that's the end of that. [I.e., you are not giving me what I want, and that hurts, so I guess we are not meant for each other.]"

            At some point in our suffering, we may experience the flash of consciousness that says about the other, "She/he must have needs of their own and feel pain and suffering also. Perhaps if I have wants, the other person has wants too." That insight represents the germinating seed that can develop into the ability to love. Once we can break out of the narcissistic shell of self-centeredness, self-involvement, and self-reference, we become able to empathize with what we imagine (i.e., project) is going on within someone else. While we cannot enter another person's psyche, we can try to consider what they might be feeling. We do that by (1) reflecting on our own past experiences that seem to be relevant to their situation and (2) holding extensive dialogues in which we listen carefully to answers to our inquiries about the other person's feelings and motivations. That is the best we can do. Even if we cannot imagine another's predicament, we can still make an effort to empathize with the thoughts and feelings they describe and appear to be experiencing. We learn to do that spontaneously as the ability to love evolves; it can become an adjunct to heartfelt concern and caring.

            In contrast, the child cannot empathize; it does not have enough experience and its own desires and needs are primary. The child's survival depends upon its BEING CARED FOR, not upon its caring for others. Probably because our many formative years are spent in childhood, the inner child remains active and strong throughout our lives. Generally, as we grow, we develop a more mature personality that can incorporate and embrace the inner child, but not be dominated by it. Childhood may be difficult and contain traumas or other difficult experiences, resulting in the child's needs becoming stronger than the more mature parts can handle. When that happens, the ego may become primarily identified with the inner child that never grows up.

            The inner Child is a part of our personalities. It is the part of us that enters into our feeling awe, surprise, enthusiasm, joy, silly, excited, creative, and motivated. But it also is the part of us that pouts and complains and can feel hurt, rejected, self-centered, needy, and victimized. Many of us learn to enjoy the energies of the inner Child without becoming possessed or identified with it, but others cannot separate from it.

            In relationships, identification with the hurt Child in ourselves can lead us to perceive our loved one as the cause of our suffering. If our parents repeatedly mistreat us during our childhood, we can grow accustomed to it, and we tend to develop an expectation of being abused. That may remain a habitual tendency even after we become adults. We are likely to expect those who say or imply that they "love" us to continue the pattern of mistreating us. Furthermore, without even realizing it, we are very likely to unconsciously act in ways that will bring about precisely what we expect. And this happens most frequently with those with whom we are most intimately involved. Some people actually act as if the person whom they most "love" is the Enemy. It's almost as if they form an intimate relationship in order to have someone to blame and attack repeatedly. Basically, such people deeply believe that they deserve to be abused, and unwittingly strive to ensure that their belief is realized.

            To respect and honor others, we must first learn to respect and honor ourselves. When our outer experiences do not help us experience ourselves as respect-worthy, another approach is needed to achieve that. That is, if we fail to receive genuine acceptance and unconditional positive regard from our parents or other adults, we can learn it from friends, relatives, and/or a psychotherapist. Through those contacts, we can discover the loving and supportive inner parents that lead us to feel genuinely loveable, i.e., deserving of respect and consideration and of being honored and valued. We also can activate and strengthen the effects of positive inner parenting through what Jung calls "active imagination": repeated inner dialogues between the ego and images of loving parents that reside within all of us. (For additional information about this process and the nature of these archetypes, see chapter 2 of my book, Hero or Victim?)

            When we have learned self-love -- including acceptance of our strengths, weaknesses, talents, fallibilities, what we know, and where we are ignorant -- we are free to appreciate those characteristics in others. Loving does not mean merely appreciating what others do or how they look; instead, its focus is directed at their very essence -- their character and soul. But what we see in others is a projection of what is in ourselves. So, when we can project our own inner beauty onto another, and continue to focus on that no matter what they do, and when the other person is able to maintain the same focus on us, that is the best possible condition for a strong, lasting partnership and meaningful relationship.

            While people's behaviors emanate from their essence, our interpretation of how we experience their behavior is our own personal responsibility; that is, we interpret out of our projections. We cannot know what is happening within another person; we can only know what we experience within ourselves -- constructed from the material of our personality -- to make sense of what passes through our senses. If we are unaware of anger within ourselves, we are likely to perceive anger in someone else. If we are unaware of feelings of self-criticism, we are likely to find fault in others or feel that they are critical of us. We can feel criticized and unloved even when we are conscious that we feel guilt and self-loathing, but there is a depth and quality of those feelings of which we are not aware. In loving, we can develop the ability to maintain a constant focus on the projection of what is beautiful in ourselves onto the loved one. We may periodically project our dark qualities also, but the beauty remains relatively constant.

            We can hesitate to take someone into our hearts based on their appearance ("If they dress like that, that means they [projection/generalization]"), station in life ("If they were raised on that side of the tracks, that means they [projection/generalization]"), occupation ("Someone who does that kind of work [projection/generalization]"), reputation ("People have told me that s/he has ....., so I anticipate [projection/generalization]"), or other purported or interpreted characteristic. Loving is concerned, not with generalized interpretations based on superficial observations, but with what a person reveals to us over time about their inner nature: their character, values, strivings, struggles, strengths, and weaknesses.

            We learn how to respect and accept someone else when we have learned how to respect and accept ourselves. As indicated earlier, to achieve that capacity requires that we have received positive regard somewhere in our development. But the capacity becomes ability (1) when we have endured the inner child's repeatedly having suffered pain and frustration arising from being let down by others on whom impossible projections have been made, and (2) when we miraculously emerge with the understanding that others have needs and wants of their own. So mature self-respect includes a kind of pride in the real ability to practice empathy for others; it is not narcissistic self-aggrandizement, which is a sign of identification with the inner undeveloped child.

            When we have developed a deep respect for ourselves and others, we are able to erect a bridge that links us with another, thereby forming a kind of harmonious union that can create an evolving togetherness-future and shut out feelings of isolation and loneliness. That linking is done through acceptance of individual differences and a mutual, personal dedication to finding solutions to problems that satisfy all parties in a controversy. Partners can diligently seek a path through a conflict that both are willing to take. Our frequently short-sighted inner child customarily says, "I want it my way!" and may turn a deaf ear to alternatives. But the mature part of us realizes that a controversial issue has more than one solution, and strives to find a resolution truly acceptable to both partners, including their inner children.