Blood is Life

There aren’t many philosophers exploring the ideas of love, at least not as many as those exploring other topics. As a beginner, I came across Erich Fromm and his book The Art of Love. It delves into the idea and meaning of love, and I really enjoyed it, agreeing with much of what he wrote. One of the main ideas in the book is that love is about giving, not being. You don’t “fall” in love, you are in love. Fromm explains that giving isn’t physical, like gifts, but rather giving of oneself with your time, effort, care, and attention. An important aspect is that one should give without expecting anything in return. This makes sense to me, and I agree with it in theory, but my own experience has taught me differently and left me confused. I’m 22 years old and a little over two weeks ago my girlfriend broke up with me. Naturally, I started analyzing why. Without going into too much detail I enjoyed giving to her, as I should, without expecting anything in return. But after a few months I found myself expecting at least a thank you, which I did get most of the time. That’s beside the point though. The issue was that I felt like I was giving far more than I was receiving, perhaps 80/20 with me doing the majority. I still enjoyed giving and didn’t think too much of it initially but over time I started feeling frustrated because I wasn’t getting much back. Unconsciously, I began resenting her which led to me no longer enjoying our time together. I didn’t feel like giving as much anymore and things quickly fell apart. Looking back, I don’t even miss her much. According to Fromm, true love doesn’t perish, so I suppose it wasn’t love. To sum up, I’d like to understand one thing. Was I wrong to expect something in return when loving someone? Or did I do what I was supposed to, but the other person just wasn’t the right one for me?

You’re right that context matters, so to clarify, the relationship lasted a few months. It wasn’t about material gifts though, and I wasn’t spoiling her or trying to “pay” for anything. I didn’t expect grand gestures or anything like that, just small things, effort, care, or even simple emotional support. Over time, it felt like I was putting in more energy than I was receiving back, which made things feel unbalanced. I wasn’t angry, but I started to notice the imbalance, and it affected how I felt about the relationship. Maybe I was overgiving or maybe we just weren’t on the same page, but that’s what I’m trying to understand. It was more about emotional connection, not material or transactional expectations.

The post isn’t about money or sex at all, and your interpretation misses the point entirely. It’s about reflecting on the balance of giving and receiving in a relationship and questioning what it means to give without expecting anything in return. Initially, I enjoyed giving without expectations, but over time I started to feel that the emotional effort I was putting in wasn’t being matched. It wasn’t about material things or physical intimacy, it was about a sense of emotional imbalance and lack of reciprocity. The length of the relationship doesn’t define the depth of reflection, it’s about realizing when something isn’t working and trying to understand why. This post is about questioning if it’s wrong to expect some level of mutual effort in a relationship or if it simply means the other person wasn’t the right match.

I hear you, but for me, love is more than just about having fun or meeting certain “checklist” expectations. It’s about building a deeper connection where both people feel supported and valued. Of course, enjoying each other’s company is part of it, but there’s also growth and understanding. Relationships are messy sometimes, and it’s not just about the good times, but whether there’s something real and meaningful beneath it all.

Relationships are not about using someone as social proof or trying to fit them into specific roles. For me, love is about mutual respect, growth, and sharing experiences. It’s not about “masculinizing” anyone or having them fulfill a certain expectation. People want different things in relationships, and it’s important to find a connection that’s authentic and based on what both partners need. Compatibility is key, and sometimes, even if there’s love, things just don’t align.

For me, love goes beyond just what you get. It’s about connection, growth, and the deeper bond you share. It’s not just about enjoying the good things, but building something lasting together.

It’s not about getting rid of someone, it’s about recognizing when things aren’t right for you anymore. Love isn’t just about feelings, it’s also about whether the relationship is healthy and fulfilling for both people. Sometimes, even when you care deeply, walking away is the best choice for both sides.

Yeah, I agree. It’s exhausting when the balance feels off for too long. If it’s too one-sided, you start questioning the whole thing. It’s important to understand why you’re staying in that situation, too. Sometimes it’s not just about the other person, but also about what you’re willing to accept and how much you’re growing from it.

Love should definitely be a two-way thing in a relationship. It’s not about following a certain philosophy, it’s about being real with yourself and with the other person. You can’t force someone to love you, but you can’t be in a relationship if there’s no genuine love there. I think it’s important to trust your own feelings and not try to fit them into any predefined idea of what love should be.

It’s true that different types of love exist, and relationships today often feel transactional. I agree that understanding those dynamics is key, but I also believe that true love requires more than just recognizing someone’s value in a transactional way. It’s about building something deeper together.

Being logical doesn’t mean you can’t feel deeply. Emotions and clear thinking can coexist, it’s all about balance.

I still think there’s room for both logic and genuine connection in love. It’s not just about structure or being transactional, there’s something meaningful in being vulnerable and open too. It’s a balance between strategy and letting things unfold naturally.

That’s a great point, I think it’s easy to lose sight of what really matters when things get complicated.

I think it can definitely be both. Fromm focuses on emotional giving, like time, effort, and care, but that doesn’t mean gifts or physical gestures aren’t meaningful too. It’s just that the emotional connection should come first, and gifts should be a way to show that, not replace it.

There’s definitely a difference between giving your all and spreading yourself too thin. People sometimes get so caught up in their own world that they lose track of what it really means to be free in a relationship. Both partners should have space to be themselves, without getting trapped in false ideas or unnecessary pressures. It’s about finding a balance where neither person feels overwhelmed. Figuring out if the other person is on the same page with that freedom takes time, but it’s key to a healthy relationship.

I understand what you’re saying, and I agree that clear communication is key in a relationship. However, I also believe that love shouldn’t feel like a list of demands or instructions. It’s about understanding and respecting each other’s needs and feelings. Of course, giving and receiving is important, but if it feels like a one-sided effort where the other person isn’t giving anything back, it doesn’t feel like a mutually fulfilling partnership. I believe love can be both conditional and unconditional at the same time, but it needs to be balanced and fair for both people.

laughing in a European way

Beautifully expressed. I agree that suffering can push us inward, helping us break away from pure instinct and open up to something greater. Maybe it’s through suffering that we reach a point where it’s no longer needed.

If life is not a struggle with God, then such a life will never truly understand what it means to be human. While this may seem an abrupt way of putting things, such bluntness often delivers a stronger impact than a more careful or measured approach. The well-oiled path of success may lead to many discoveries, but while we admire those who tread it, we often find that it is not the person we admire but rather their talent and the fruits it brings into the world. The person behind the talent, however, remains a much more complex matter. What I admire is the radical sacrifice that finds redemption only in the understanding of what I call “holistic misery.” Each individual experience of misery reflects a complete and unified question of one’s existence. Stub your toe and the pain is immediate and localized, yet beyond this trivial moment lies the deeper haunting question of suffering itself. What is the ontology of pain What does it mean to suffer and why does it arise in the way it does This question disrupts the ordinary assumptions of existence, forcing one to confront life beyond its comfortable certainties. This is the true meaning of the misery brought on by the Edenic apple of knowledge. Adam and Eve did not merely learn disobedience or commit an “original sin.” These simplistic interpretations miss the profound metaphysical significance of the narrative. What they learned was to put questions where there had once been assumptions. They learned to interrogate existence itself, a radical act instigated by God’s prohibition. God’s injunction against the tree of knowledge was not merely a command but the seed of the question itself, an invitation to go beyond naïve acceptance and confront the nature of freedom, suffering and existence. Suffering forces the individual to recognize this primordial indeterminacy. It insinuates itself into the spaces between complacency and affirmation, making it impossible to ignore. As Emily Dickinson’s poem “I Heard a Fly Buzz” so powerfully illustrates, suffering does not merely inflict pain but demands attention to its existential roots. It compels one to address not just the immediate pain but the broader meta-suffering that arises when one asks why suffering exists at all. In this confrontation with suffering, religion takes its first steps, not in the form of naïve or institutional dogma but as a deeply personal response to the ultimate questions of existence. God, in this sense, is not the simplified deity of conventional religious thought but rather the manifestation of the final questions that lie inconspicuously within our lives. These questions remain in plain sight, yet they are rarely acknowledged until suffering forces us to notice them.

Interesting perspective. I see pain less as something that proves we’ve gone ‘wrong’ and more as something that pushes us to look deeper. Maybe it’s not just an illusion to escape but something that can teach us and guide us beyond how we currently see ourselves.

Thank you, I’m glad you found it meaningful.

I see where you’re coming from, and I agree that living in constant pain or suffering doesn’t help us reach our highest potential. But I believe that pain, when acknowledged and understood, can be a doorway to deeper self-awareness and transformation. It’s not about staying in survival mode, but about confronting the deeper truths within us, even if they arise through suffering. Sometimes, it’s through these struggles that we are forced to question, grow, and eventually transcend our limitations.

I agree that God is not merely a remedy for life’s uncertainties. However, to say that God ‘simply is’ risks overlooking the dynamic way we encounter God through questions, suffering, and the search for meaning. For me, it’s not about solving misery but about understanding it and meeting God within it.

Pain is the body’s way of telling us something is wrong, physical or emotional. It’s immediate and raw, but what we make of it, how it shapes us, that’s where suffering begins.