Love Languages: acts of service talk. (This is the second post in a series.)

Near the end of the last post, I mentioned some things that I was calling gifts, but just as easily fit in as acts of service. Preparing a meal, for example, is a gift and an act of service. The meal itself is a gift, but the preparation and presentation is an act of service. Acts of service is a difficult realm for me.

I have an unfortunate history with acts of service in relationships. I have had acts of service given that were later used against me. I have requested acts of service and received responses like “I think you can take care of that yourself.” There is so much power (for me) in acts of service. It has taken me years to start accepting acts of service after going for so long with them abused. I am the person carrying 10,000 things that will not hand off a single one because I’m used to being shamed for the carrying, so I don’t feel like I deserve the help. When, honestly, I’ve needed that help.

Accepting the acts of service has taken time and work. It’s an immense relief when someone takes a task of my plate, but I do not open easily to let anyone take anything off my plate. Some voice in my head still believes that I deserve the pain because I put it there. I will suffocate under my to-do list without passing a single task onto someone else that is willing to help. It’s isolating, and sometimes it’s devastating. So, I try to override my default settings and look for a way to accept the help. Then I feel anxious about it until I have established there isn’t going to be an explosion response.

Acts of service, to me, shows real love. People can say anything without real love behind it, people can touch you with desire instead of love, people can give you gifts regardless of their feelings, and even quality time can be for fun or community without needing real love behind it. For someone to recognize a place that I need help, step up to the task, and help me with it – that makes me feel seen, supported, and loved more than anything else. Which must be the reason it’s so hard for me to accept them.

I saw a meme about our love language being the thing we lacked most in childhood, but I don’t think that’s true for me. I think my love languages spark from the things that fulfill me. The area of my life that is the most stressful is my to-do list, so anyone in my life that makes that load lighter is a blessing. I feel fulfilled through touch, quality time, and acts of service – so naturally, those are my best love languages. I need all three, but the acts of service stand out to me because they show effort beyond my “normal.”

In giving love, acts of service are some of the hardest for me to give someone. When I love someone, I want to give them gifts and acts of service, even though that is the hardest thing for me to give, it’s something that shows me I love them and therefore, when reversed, shows me that they love me, too.

My story this week is about the best gifts I’ve been given – because most of them were acts of service.

My first husband painted a portrait of my cat, L. It is something that helps me honor and remember the cat I raised from a tiny poofball to an old man, nearly 18 years old. I will always love that painting.

My second husband did some of my oil changes in my car, built me an aerial rig, and sometimes got me takeout after a long day. In the day-to-day, he did dishes and tried to keep things tidy.

I’ve had lots of service acts from friends; driving for me, helping me move, getting me food, and generally helping me out. This week, as I write this, I had an act of service for the first time in a dating experience. I’ve had plenty of dates offer to help me with things, but this one was the first to help me despite my attempt to say no to their help (because I didn’t need it.) They just made me something for dinner even though I said I didn’t need it. This person is giving in ways I haven’t experienced before. They helped me cook the other day, and it was so easy.

For people like me, sometimes you just have to force your help onto us. Accept the “no,” but then pick up a spatula when you see me struggling. Present me with food when I say “I’m okay, no worries.” Drag me out of my house when I’m going through a rough time. Put the toys that you see on the floor in a bin, because my child left them there and my bandwidth is too low to have already picked up.

One of the things I have always appreciated the most: cleaning my car. I cannot explain this one, because I have anxiety about my stuff being moved in the house. My first husband’s dad, and my current stepdad washed my car of their own volition. If I had a partner that took my car to the carwash, vacuumed up all the food thrown in my car by my child, threw out the trash, and got the car washed – I can’t explain the huge relief that would give me. In terms of chores, dishes are my most stressful, but somehow this task feels like a bigger act of service to me. Of course, I also appreciate the dishes, so long as the task isn’t then a point of contest later.

Everyone is different, my feelings here are not going to be yours. However, acts of service are some of the most impactful gestures of love, for me.

Show your love, to somebody. Love, -S.