My necklace and my earrings don’t match, but I feel loved. It has taken me a long time to admit this, but gifts are one of my love languages. According to experts on the subject, there are five different love languages; words of affirmation, physical touch, gifts, acts of service, and quality time. As I once told a counselor, I am adaptable. I would be happy to receive love in any of the languages. For many years, there was silence.

Growing up, service was deemed the paramount love language. The only type of worthy quality time was time spent in service. I understand some of the reasons for this bias. Service does not cost anything but time and effort. My family did not have the monetary wherewithal to engage in the language of gifts. I was taught to serve and serve I did – to the point I assumed service was my primary love language.

When I first began to see that I loved and longed to receive gifts, I felt guilty. Because – said the unwritten rules – to crave gifts was to be materialistic.

When I acknowledged I had a penchant for wanting to give gifts; a knack for running a gift store that specialized in finding just the right gift for the important people in life; I finally woke to the fact that gifts must be my love language.

Some years ago, my sister-n-law gifted me a set of turquoise earrings, a genuine act of love as she likes the stone as well as I and could have kept them for herself. For a milestone birthday, a cousin delivered a delicate pearl and diamond pendant. Lovely. A proper gift from lord to lady, but I have no husband, so family filled the gap. These days, if I am having a particularly lonely or insecure morning, I dress with care for work. I fasten on my necklace; thread the turquoise dangles through my earlobes.

My necklace and earrings don’t match, but I feel loved. Thus fortified, I sally forth to conquer the world.