Love as Literacy: Knowing Through Story

In the Literacy of Life (LOL) framework, love is not merely a feeling or declaration—it is a form of literacy. Many think of love as warmth, attraction, or devotion. But in LOL, love is not just emotional—it is the ability to read and understand the story of another, to engage their presence with care, curiosity, and reverence, and to track the evolving plotline of their soul across time.

This is especially true in the love between a parent and child. Many claim to love their children, but few can tell the story of who their child truly is. This becomes the test of authentic love in LOL: Can you narrate their inner world with coherence, compassion, and clarity?

The Love Literacy Test

To move from concept to practice, LOL invites us to explore how love becomes measurable through narrative by offering a concrete self-assessment—an opportunity to evaluate the depth and clarity of our relational knowledge.

When someone says, "I love my child," they are invited into a reflection:

  • Who is your child? What are their unique traits, rhythms, and quirks? What delights them, and what causes them pain?

  • How do they see the world? What metaphors or mental models shape their understanding of life? What concerns or excites them about the future?

  • What matters most to them? What are their recurring themes, values, and questions? Where do they find meaning?

The ability to answer these questions is not about correctness but presence. If love is a relationship, then literacy is the ability to read that relationship in real time, with nuance and reverence.

To love a child, or anyone, is to say: "I carry your story inside me." Not just your needs or your behavior—but your essence.

The Crisis of Unrecognized Children

Children are often told to honor their elders, yet they witness those elders dismissing their voices, invalidating their emotions, or ignoring their insights.

Imagine a child who expresses sadness or confusion about a family rule, only to be told, "Don't talk back" or "You don't understand." Over time, this child learns that their emotions are unsafe to share, and their inner logic must be hidden to avoid punishment. They begin to protect their truth by withdrawing or resisting—not to defy, but to survive.

Those who do not listen to their children do not love them rightly. They love something else: an illusion. And when the real child emerges, they feel insulted by the presence of truth.

When adults demand love and respect from children without listening to them, they model contradiction. This contradiction plants the seed of rebellion, not because the child is flawed, but because they are defending the integrity of their own emerging story. Rebellion, in this light, is not defiance—but protection.

The Sacred Continuity of Knowing

In LOL, we affirm that people do not need to be "proven wrong" across time. Our past selves, our present selves, and our future selves each carry aspects of truth. We say:

Part of me already knew.

We relate to that knowing self across time as a collaborator, not a rival. This principle also applies to how we relate to others. The story of the person you love is not static—it unfolds, deepens, contradicts, and matures.

Love becomes the willingness to keep reading, not skip chapters, and never confuse a person's idea of themselves with their living story.

An Exercise in Love Literacy

Try this:

  1. Choose someone you claim to love.

  2. Ask yourself: Can I describe who they are beyond their role in my life?

  3. Reflect on how they see the world, what matters to them, and what they return to again and again.

  4. Ask yourself: If they read this reflection, would they feel recognized or confused?

  5. Finally, reflect: How has your understanding of this person changed after this exercise?

To know someone is to honor them—not just in thought, but through active curiosity and intentional presence. In the coming days, try applying this awareness: speak less, observe more, and allow your understanding of another to evolve through focused listening. Consider journaling your reflections or discussing them with someone you trust, allowing your insight to take root in real-world connection.

To love someone is to read them. To truly read someone is to become a living mirror of their becoming.

This is Love as Literacy—one of our deepest gifts.

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