This seems counterintuitive, screaming rejection. Why in the world would someone not accept their best friend for who they are? Isn’t that the whole point of the friendship, of close relationships of the type? To see someone’s faults, dirt, and grime, and still find the beauty in them. Isn’t that friendship? Isn’t that love?
Yes, it is. A deep relationship goes beyond the mess of the surface to see the heart. It loves the person regardless of faults, for we are all faulty. We all make mistakes and commit wrongs. That is a love for the person, not the faults.
There is no love for someone’s faults. It sounds basic and seems to be common sense. Why would anyone love a fault? We don’t inherently love bad things, so of course, there wouldn’t be love for faults, wrongdoings, sin, whatever the word may be you wish to describe the ill practice.
I want to caution you to not love these wrongdoings. To counteract the belief, conscious or subconscious, that truly love and accepting someone equates to loving and accepting their mistakes. You love beyond it not the practice.
This realization came recently. One of my dearest best friends picked me up for a drive to share stories and updates. I love this girl. She is bold, strong, and intentional.
Our drive was not what I expected. A lighthearted sharing of stories, laughing and good conversation was my anticipated approach to the evening. Good conversation did not disappoint, but it was coupled with difficulty.
This girl, one of my best friends, sat in the driver seat and asked questions. Simple as that. Though these were not your basic “How’s school?” and “What’s new?” These questions dove deep into places I didn’t know I was hiding in. She plundered into the darkness that I chose to ignore and asked the hard question.
The night was filled with silent pauses, holding back tears and slight discomfort. But let me tell you, it was by far one of my favorite nights in college thus far.
It wasn’t some mentor, leader, or teacher sitting there questioning me in hopes for right answer responses. It was this girl, who deeply cares and loves me, pressing in, asking questions people typically shy away from.
She strikes me as a rose – full of natural beauty and awe, though just as capable of sticking you with a thorn, not to hurt but to bring about awareness. Her thorn dug into my side, opening my eyes.
My best friend that night did not love me for who I am, who I was during that drive. She saw me and rejected it because she sees beyond that. She knows I can be better and wants that for me. She wants it enough to sit there and ask the hard questions, to press in when others would rather dance on the edges, to bring discomfort in order for change to take place.
That night I was not accepted for who I was, but let me tell you, I was loved, deeply loved and cared for. I would rather be loved than accepted.
And no, love and acceptance are not the same thing.
