You accept the love that you recognize

 If you're a Millenial like me, this quote is probably familiar to you: "You accept the love you think you deserve." It's a line from the book "Perks of Being a Wildflower" by Stephen Chbosky. From the moment the quote went viral, it never left my mind. I keep asking myself, or rather reminding myself, never to accept depreciated love. But then I'd like to argue, who would accept such a love anyway? Why be devalued? Who in their right mind would say, "Ah, I deserve this wretched love, so I'm staying in"? I always thought I was making progress by keeping myself in check. 

I have never once heard a person say, "My husband has beaten me close to death" and be proud of it. The fact that you "deserve" it implies awareness, a level of consciousness. But that's the thing. Nobody with awareness would just accept being abused. 

So this came to mind: "You accept the love that you recognize." Everyone has a version of love, a personalized description and a list of evidence included. It stems from the moment of birth to adolescent, and it lingers presently in the people around us. That is the love you recognize. And that familiarity is the illusion of love. It could be the familiar love language of your parents, or the tradition of gifting between your friends. Whatever it is, that love alone is what you recognize. So when you grow up being abused, you mistake that as love and so when you meet an abusive person, you find him or her familiar. And that's okay because you've dealt with that kind of man/woman before. It is a common territory to you. It is a familiar ground. It's a battlefield you've revisited many times before. You got this, you've been here before. So, you accept that kind of love that you recognize. 

And persistent sacrificing over that person? Enduring unreasonable people? Dealing with people who put themselves first? Who breaks their promises often or never keep their word? Who wouldn't get out of their way to at least try to impress you? Suffering (and just deal with it) yet calling that love? That's the kind that I recognize. That's the kind of love that I accept..ed.