Sunday, February 23, 2025
José Rosario
Founder, The Phoenix Empowered
Queer Christian
Growing up as an evangelical Christian, I became adept at memorizing Bible verses, often using them out of context in conversation. One of my favorites was 1 Corinthians 13:4-7 (the passage you're likely familiar with): "Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres." Notice how we often forget verse 8, which powerfully begins: "Love never fails."
As a teenager, I struggled. Acne was brutal, and the judgments from family and friends about my appearance and body created a narrative that deeply impacted my mental health. At the same time, I navigated life as a closeted gay man who used a wheelchair, making dating a challenge. I spent countless tearful conversations with friends lamenting, "No one is lining up to date the guy in the wheelchair." It was a painful reflection for a young person who longed to experience the kind of love described in 1 Corinthians 13.
This narrative isn't unique to my experience or confined to romantic relationships. You might be reading this and recognizing your own struggles with self-judgment and self-blame. Given society's obsession with fairy tale romances, I’m sure I'm not the only one who expected life to mirror a Hallmark movie—where you bump into your soulmate in a bookstore (RIP Borders) and suddenly they’re outside holding a boombox. When this ideal doesn't materialize, it’s easy to feel like it's due to personal shortcomings—not being attractive enough, fit enough, or funny enough.
As a therapist, I'm passionate about the concept of unconditional positive regard. This means acknowledging that a person doesn’t need to do anything to earn love. No one enters this world unworthy of safe, affirming love. You don’t have to prove your lovability; you are inherently deserving of love and compassion.
One of my favorite books is All About Love by bell hooks, a Black feminist scholar who challenges us to view love not as a noun, but as a verb. In the book, hooks argues that love isn’t something we earn or give away like an object, but rather a process—one that involves making mistakes, unlearning societal conditioning, and embracing the imperfections in others. This process requires showing compassion as people grow, and setting boundaries as an act of self-love when love becomes impatient, envious, or harmful. hooks also explores how patriarchy, racism, and capitalism shape our understanding of love and relationships, offering a framework for examining love in a broader societal context. Remember those challenges I mentioned—being gay and disabled? Systemic forces like ableism and heterosexism certainly impacted the ways in which I felt lovable.
Love as a process implies that people will continue to change, challenging our internalized expectations. As 1 Corinthians 13 suggests, love never fails, but sometimes it means ending a relationship and seeking out nurturing spaces along the way. This biblical passage is not a passive, feel-good cliché; it's a call to action, urging us to do the difficult work of setting boundaries, reflecting on our flaws, and recognizing when someone’s view of love is no longer serving our well-being. It reminds us of the love we deserve—the kind that affirms our full personhood without requiring us to earn it.
Furthermore, All About Love emphasizes the importance of self-love as the foundation for loving others. hooks argues that we cannot truly love others if we don't first love ourselves, developing a healthy sense of self-worth and self-respect. This journey of love is both personal and political, challenging us to grow individually while also working toward a more loving society. We will find the love we deserve—and we need not settle for less. Supportive environments may seem scarce when judgment and egocentrism dominate, but they are essential for the process of love that hooks describes.
Reflection
How does unconditional positive regard challenge common societal narratives about love—particularly in romantic relationships?
Are there ways where you have worked hard to earn love?
Can you think of an example where unconditional love or acceptance has played a role in your life?
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