12 Ways To Show Who You Love More

I believe most women want their man to love them more than he loves himself.  But do men really understand what this means?

Well, here is a basic list of things that a woman needs to see in her man so she knows he loves her above himself, if he indeed does (so men, read up….or women, nonchalantly message him the link in hopes he reads):

  1.  Tell her you love her even when she annoys you.  If you can only express your love towards her when she does something that pleases you or when you are in a good mood, you don’t actually love her.  In that case, you just love the way she makes you feel when she does what you want her to.
  2. Do what she wants to do often, especially when you know it is something that brings her joy but that you dislike.  Example: If she really loves to watch a certain tv show but you think it is stupid or uninteresting, sacrifice that 30 minutes to an hour to watch it with her to make her happy.  It’s not a huge sacrifice of your time, and you get to snuggle up on the couch with her and see her smile/laugh the whole time.
  3. Help her with things simply to be of service.  More times than not she is doesn’t need your help with putting away the dishes or making the cookies, dusting the bookshelves or putting away laundry.  Just because she doesn’t need your help doesn’t mean she wouldn’t appreciate it.  Helping her with the small things builds up trust that you will be helpful for the big things in life, too.  Plus, it is a little more time spent together and we all love spending time with the one we love.
  4. Never leave without a goodbye hug and/or kiss.  Personally, I like both but one or the other would suffice.  This point should go without saying, but you are not guaranteed a return to her.  Life can be short and can end unexpected.  Kiss her.  Hug her.  Make sure you always take that extra 10 seconds before leaving.  Plus, she won’t tell you this, but you being gone for hours does make her heart sad.  She misses you all day while you are out.  That goodbye hug and/or kiss will help lift her up.
  5. Listen to her when she talks.  I mean really listen.  Put away your phone or computer, look away from the television or tablet.  Listen to what she tells you and be interested.  Maybe you don’t care about the components of her story, but if you care about her you will let her know that if it is important to her, it is important to you.  If she doesn’t feel heard and her opinions cared about, she isn’t going to want to discuss with you the big things or really important things in life.  And that, my friend, is going to kill you relationship slowly.
  6. Never say something you know will her hurt during an argument.  I get it, noone likes to be wrong in an argument.  In an argument in a relationship, NO ONE WINS.  If you get the last word or break her down enough that she gives up, that is not a win.  The only win is a resolution made by both of you and reconciliation.  When you get mad or frustrated with her, never ever say something mean intended to hurt her.  She will remember it.  She’ll remember it long after the argument is over and long after apologies have been made.  She’ll remember it when she is feeling down.  She’ll remember it when she feels like you are disappointed.  She will always remember it…and it will shape how she sees herself.  If you really love her, you will build her up.  You will not let your words tear her down.
  7. Compliment her.  Yes, we still like hearing that you think we are beautiful even when we don’t feel like it.  Yes, we still like you telling us you like the meal we made you even when we have made it a dozen times already.  Yes, we still like to know if you like our new shirt or pants or shoes.  Yes, we still like to hear if you think we are smart.  Your woman wants to hear the things you like that she does and the things you simply like about her, even if she has already heard them a dozen times.
  8. Encourage her.  This is different than a compliment.  A woman loves to serve and to give and to love.  We all do.  It goes back to the beginning of our existence.  We were created as helpmates, companions, lovers.  But we still need encouragement. Your woman tries very hard to love you well.  She is still going to fail sometimes.  She is still going to mishear what you say sometimes, forget something, mess up dinner, break a cup, etc. She is still going to go through things.  She needs you to encourage her.  Be her number 1 fan.  Be her personal cheerleader (uniforms not required).  Tell her that whether or not she thinks she can do something, you believe in her.  Tell her it’s okay when something goes wrong and that accidents can happen.
  9. Forgive her.  This sounds easy since relationships are about love and forgiveness is a big part of love.  But when you forgive her for something, let it go.  Forgiving doesn’t mean you forgive one day, then bring the transgression back up in a fight a week or two later.  That is not forgiveness. You let it go.  You put it down and you do not pick up that offense up again.  You can remember it, but don’t borrow the hurt from it again
  10. Spend time with her.  This is so very simple.  Playing your video game in the same room as her is not spending time with her.  Being on your phone or tablet while sitting next to her is not spending time with her.  Engage in her attention.  Invest in her presence.  Do things together.  Examples: go play a sport together, take a walk and agree to put the electronics away during it, make a craft together, build something, go to a museum or gallery and discuss each exhibit together, watch a movie together, play games with one another, etc.  Quality time means so much more than a grand gesture here and there.
  11. Be romantic.  You woman needs you to romance her.  She has plenty of friends and most likely family who will do many of the things y’all do together (eat, shop, play sports/games, watch movies, etc.).  However, she only has one significant other — you. You are the only ONE who she expects to and wants to romance her.  If you can’t think of something romantic to do or say or give on your own, take to the internet.  Use Google or Pinterest.  There are plenty of ideas out there waiting for you to bring to life for your woman. She needs romance in her life — frequently, not just on anniversaries or birthdays.  And you know, it’ll make you feel good to see how much a little romance can warm her heart.  Trust me.
  12. Lead her.  A woman is great at following good leadership.  She needs you to be a good leader.  This means in the house, out of the house, with others, with family, etc.  Lead her in showing others compassion, volunteering your time to show selflessness, being kind, being financially responsible, being adventurous, trying new things, etc.  Personally, my number one for wanting to be led from my significant other in faith.  A man who can lead a woman into a deeper, more devoted relationship with God is a good man and good leader.  Into the heart of God is the best place a man can lead a woman.  Do that for her.  Do that for yourself.  It makes a big difference.


This is my short little list of things that come to mind instantly when I think of how to show someone you love them more than you love yourself.  It all boils down to sacrifice in the end.  Love always does.  I mean, the greatest act of love of all time was the sacrifice Jesus made of all of us on the cross. So, if you truly love someone more than you love yourself, you will sacrifice for them.  And if you truly love them, it will be more of an honor than an obligation.

On an ending note, these points above can be reversed on how a woman can show a man she loves him more than herself.  I wrote primarily to the men here because I am a woman, but I believe it is just as applicable with the genders reversed (aside from #12).

Be kind to one another.  Show love to each other.  Do good.


The Man I Never Forgave

When you forgive someone and let whatever you were holding onto go, you can see things clearer.

When you forgive someone and let whatever you were holding onto go, you can see things clearer.

The man I never forgave until after he died was named Marty.  Shamefully I will admit, I hated him – for years.  He came into mine and my family’s life when I was just 5 years old.  I knew from the day I met him that I didn’t like him.  There was just a something about him that made my 5 year-old self uncomfortable…it also made my 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, and 12 year-old self uncomfortable, too.  My 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, and 19 year old self tried to forget about him.

The day I met Marty I was 5 years old, it was summer, and he came over to our house to see my Dad.  (This was pre-divorce, so my biological parents were still married.)  I was playing outside in one of those plastic pools with my sisters, Mom and Dad were sitting together at the round wooden picnic table in the backyard, and all was right in the world.  Then, Marty came walking around the house to the backyard.  Greetings were exchanged and my Mom, being the excellent host that she is, immediately went to get our guest something to drink (and to refill my Dad’s tea glass, too).  I went inside with my Mommy and sat on the table (she hated when I did that…and she still does) while she put ice in a glass, refilled Dad’s tea, and filled a glass of sweet tea for Marty.  (Yes, I am from the South.)  Upon Mom sitting Marty’s tea glass down on the table beside me for a moment, I promptly spit in it.  Yes, you read right:  I SPIT in his tea.  Straight up, no remorse.   My Mom, of course, was dumbfounded that her “sweet” baby girl would do such a thing.  After all, I wasn’t known for ever spitting on people or things or especially on other people’s things.  Why did I do such a thing?  I didn’t like Marty.  I was little.  I didn’t know how to show my displeasure in a big way except to do something that seemed so….appalling. 

Let me just tell you something:  children have a keen sense about people, just like dogs.  If you are a parent and your kids instantly don’t like someone, there’s a reason for that.  Explore that reason.  At age five I knew Marty was not a good man.   But I was just a kid….what did I know?

Marty became a “family friend.”  I say that in quotations because I never considered him a friend and it was MY family.  I don’t know how my sisters really felt about him, and I guess I still don’t.   We don’t talk about him anymore, now that we’re adults and he’s dead.  We don’t really have a reason to.  Anyway, as a “family friend” we saw Marty often and my parents made the fifteen minute drive down dirt roads to his house with us in tow as much as he came to our house. 

When I was 8 years old and my parents were getting divorced, whose “side” did Marty take in the divorce?  Mom’s, of course!  He was supposed to be a friend of Dad’s…but he quickly changed sides.  As you can guess, he developed some weird fancy for my mother.  It wasn’t too noticeable right then, but later it became completely apparent.

A single mother of three girls who works 9 hours a day would need a sitter….right?  Right!  Marty, being the “helpful” family friend he was, volunteered to see to it we ate breakfast and lunch while Mom was at work in the summer and we were out of school. 

There are two summer instances for quick reference between when I was 8 years old and when I was 12 years old of interaction with Marty.  First:  one summer my sisters and I worked on his land during the mornings helping pile fallen tree limbs, rake leaves (avoiding all the snakes, of course!), and whatever we could to help clear off more land for the horses to roam on.  In exchange, he bought us season passes to the city pool and dropped us off at the pool every afternoon.  Okay, that wasn’t so bad…but he was such a hateful man and it was hard to spend 4-6 hours around him as he told you what to do.  Rude demeanor, mean eyes, and I generally disliked being around him.
Second instance:  One summer, I think it was when I was 10 years old (or maybe 11?), Mom had to work late.  I had softball practice, so Marty offered to take me.  He came over that morning while me and the sisters were getting ready to go and I was brushing my hair when he kept nagging me that I was taking too long.  So, I tossed the hairbrush near his feet when I was done.  Yes, I realize that was not the best attitude…but I was a kid, give me a break.  Instead of being a normal adult and scolding me for that behavior, Marty picked the hairbrush up and chased me through our house until I was cornered and threw it at me.  I’m not talking a toss at my feet or a gentle toss to the shoulder.  I’m talking:  he rared back and threw that plastic hairbrush.  I can’t remember now if it him my arm or my leg, but I just remember two things:  it hurt, and I hated him. 

Flash forward to when I was 12 years old.  My Mom had figured out Marty fancied her and she was not reciprocal.  Thus, contact was minimal to non-existent.  Until…he began repeatedly calling our house and leaving messages on the answering machine (remember those?) about contraband and burning our house down and all of these wicked things.  I only remember being allowed to hear one of the messages..and in slurred speech he had stated he was going to burn our house down.  (Did I mention he was a disabled war veteran who most likely had PTSD but refused any sort of treatment?  Fact.)

Not long after the answering machine messages starting coming did Marty take things to a new level.  My Mom had been leaving for work in the mornings at 4am at the time.  Even the sun refused to rise that early.  One morning she got into the car and started down our driveway (it’s long and starts flat, then progresses to a hill in which our house is on top of).  As she got to the bottom of the driveway to the flatter part, she notices Marty’s truck stationary, no lights on, blocking her path out.  Now, I don’t know if she opened the door or rolled down the window, but she calls out to ask what in the world he was doing there and that he needed to leave.  He repeatedly tells her just to get in his truck, they needed to talk….blah, blah, blah.  Long story short here, Marty ends up leaving either after the police were called or threatened to be called.  Not long after our “family friend” Marty became our “family restraining order recipient.”  He wasn’t allowed within 500 feet of my Mom, me, or my sisters.

I saw him after that a few times in the local grocery store between the ages of 16-18.  I was a cashier there in the evenings after school.  He looked terrible…sick, old, sad.   I still hated him, but I also felt bad for him.  How can one person end up so terrible?

Let me tell you how.   He didn’t believe in God, and certainly not Jesus.  He spoke against God.  I now believe, as a more mature Christian, that he had some kind of demonic possession.  I know a lot of unbelievers and, while they do not know the joy of the Lord and how it feels to live in the love and grace of God, they are not mean like Marty, my soul does not feel automatically uncomfortable by their presence.  Marty was headed to hell.  No amount of “planting seeds” worked.  He refused and denied the Lord as long as I knew him.  He was mean.  He was uncomfortable.  He was scary. 

I found out the Thanksgiving break of freshman year that Marty had died.  As much as I hate to admit this, I wasn’t sorry — I was glad.  I was glad that I would never have to see him again.  I was glad that he was gone.  I was glad that there was never a chance that he could kidnap my Mom.  I was glad he was dead. 

The terrible thing is:  I am almost certain he took his last breath denying the Lord.  I am almost certain he is spending eternity in a place I shouldn’t wish on anyone — in hell.  I am almost certain that his demons rode his soul straight to the pits of hell. 

As a Christian this should bother me.  As a Christian, it does bother me — but it didn’t always.  No amount of praying now will get his soul to Heaven.  No amont of begging God will change where Marty ended up.  However, I do forgive him (finally) for everything he did.  For all the wrong things he did.  In the absence of the Lord is where evil abounds, and Marty was empty of the Lord.  He was evil.  Maybe it’s wrong or not politically correct to say that, but it’s true. 

I make no apologies for not liking him.  I make no apologies for spitting in his tea when I was 5 years old.  I make no apologies for telling my sisters and my Mom how much I hated him.  I make no apologies for that.  But, I am remorseful that I held what he did against him until after he died.  I am remorseful that I wasn’t sorry when he died.  I am remorseful that it has taken until recently for me to be bothered that he is in hell.  Yes, I apologize for that.

Marty is no longer the man I never forgave, but as sure as you are reading this:  I forgive him.  My heart will simply always be broken for him and his eternal destination.