Not knowing, in our blood and bones, that we are truly loved or loveable undermines our capacity to give and receive love freely. This is the core wound that generates interpersonal conflict and a whole range of familiar relationship tangles. Difficulty trusting, fear of being misused or rejected, harboring jealousy and vindictiveness, defensively stonewalling, having to argue and prove we're right, feeling easily hurt or offended, and blaming others for our pain -- these are just a few of the ways that our insecurity about being loved or loveable shows up.
The mood of unlove often shows up in the form of sudden emotional flare-ups in reaction to any hint of being slighted or badly treated. It's as though a reservoir of distrust and resentment were ready and waiting to be released, which the tiniest incident can trigger. Even caring and compassionate people often carry within them a fair share of unlove and righteous grievance, which can suddenly erupt under certain circumstances. For some couples these explosions happen early on, blowing a budding relationship apart in their first few encounters. For others, the mood of unlove might not wreak its havoc until well into a seemingly happy marriage, when both partners suddenly wake up one day and realize they don't feel truly seen or known. It's not uncommon for long-term spouses to say something like, "I know my husband loves me, but somehow I don't feel loved."
Sometimes the mood of unlove shows up in the form of endless bickering and petty irritation, as though both partners were continually looking for reasons to grumble, "Why don't you love me better?" For example, one couple I worked with described the following incident that led to a week-long estrangement. The woman had just made her husband tea when he became upset with her for putting milk in it: "Haven't I told you before that I don't want you putting milk in my tea for me, that I like to let it steep for a long time first?" The only way to understand how something so trivial could trigger a major conflict is through recognizing what her action signifies for him: In his eyes, she has shown once again that she is not attuned to him and his needs -- like all the other women in his life. And for her, when even making tea becomes an occasion for blame and resentment, this shows, once again, that no matter what she does she can never win his love. Lurking in the background of this petty incident is the age-old pain of feeling uncared for and unappreciated, which both partners are reenacting once again.
As a practicing psychotherapist, I have been intrigued by the tenacity and intransigence of the mood of unlove, which can live on in the psyche in spite of plenty of evidence to the contrary (even when people in our lives do love us) or in spite of many years of therapy or spiritual practice. What's worse, the mood of unlove has the power to repel, belittle, or sabotage whatever love is there. Somehow the love that's available always seems to fall short -- it's not sufficient, not good enough, or not the right kind. Somehow it fails to convince us that we are truly loved or loveable. In this way the mood of unlove -- as an expectation that we won't or can't be fully embraced or accepted -- makes us impervious to letting in the love that might actually free us from its grip.
As a result, "You have two choices in life: You can stay single and be miserable or get married and wish you were dead," as H.L. Mencken wrote with a flourish of wry, black humor. Reciting this line at relationship workshops always evokes peals of laughter as people feel the relief of naming this basic human dilemma. When under the spell of the mood of unlove, living alone is miserable because we feel bereft or abandoned. And yet marrying is no cure for this misery, since living with someone every day can further intensify the sense of unlove and make it feel even more hellish.
How then can brokenhearted people like ourselves heal this woundedness around love that has been passed down through the generations, and set ourselves free from the strife that dominates our world? This is the most crucial issue of human life, both personally and collectively. It is also the central focus of this book.