Do you know what your love language is? Mine is surprising

Frances Whiting was recently asked in a panel discussion what her ‘love language is’. Turns out she does have one, and it took her by surprise.

Do you know what your love language is?

Do you know what your love language is? I don’t, or at least I didn’t when I was recently asked this question while appearing on a panel all about love.

I did what I always do when I’m asked something I don’t know the answer to, I made up something on the spot, knowing as I do, that very few people are actually listening. Experience has taught me that most people who attend any sort of panel discussion are there to see one particular person on that panel, and if you are not it, you can pretty much recite your grocery list, and nobody will notice.

Do you know what makes your heart happy?

Also, when you look out into the audience during a panel session, you can see the thought bubbles above people’s heads which include the following: “They’re a lot shorter in real life”, “I wish I’d gone to the bathroom on the way in’, ‘What should I have for lunch? That sushi place looked all right” and “Gosh, who knew Frances Whiting was so very, very beautiful.”

Anyway, it turns out - as I learnt by stalling and listening to all the other panel participant answers - that we all have our own love language.

Now, clearly the other panellists already had access to the questions before the event because they all seemed very sure of their answers, which included “hand picked flowers”, “acts of service, like folding the washing”, and “little notes left around the house”. Frankly, I didn’t entirely believe the little notes guy, but that’s neither here nor there. A little bit like his imaginary notes, I imagine.

Anyway when it came to my turn and the panel’s host said “And what about you, Frances, what’s your love language” I said “Mostly English”, which got a laugh (look, you take what you can on these panels, it’s dog-eat-dog up there) and then I said “Lightening someone’s load, in any way I can. So that might look like Daniel’s (not his real name) of folding the washing, or Sarah’s (ditto) hand picked flowers or Greg’s (ditto) little notes, for me it’s about looking at what that person needs in that moment and seeing if I can somehow provide it.” Take that Daniel, Greg and Sarah, I just made all of you look pretty miserly in the old love language department, didn’t I? dishing out your love one measly task or gesture at a time? Again, don’t judge me, it’s every man and woman for themselves on those panels, I tell you.

Anyway, when I got home, I started to think more about the question, and I realised I do have a love language. It’s tea. If I love you, I’m going to make you a cup of tea, and not only that, I’m going to make it properly.

Frances shows her love through tea.

If I use a teabag, we’re okay, but if I bust out my china teapot with the strawberries on it, and I measure out the leaves (one for each person, one for the pot), and I wait patiently for it to draw, and I pour it into my matching strawberry teacups, just know I not only love you deeply, I would lay down my life for you. In a heartbeat.

So, it turns out my love language is a proper cup of tea. What’s yours?

Fran Loves:

Black Rabbit Espresso, a great little coffee van I pass - and more often than not - pull into on my way to work every morning. On Musgrave Road, Red Hill, heading into the city, they make great coffee at very reasonable prices. There’s plenty of parking, and it’s easy to get back on the road once you’ve got your caffeine hit. And the staff are lovely.