You Can Love Someone and Still Not Like Them

I love my family, even though they’re not perfect. I’m close to my family, even though sometimes they annoy me. They’ve taught me a lot throughout my life. One important lesson I’ve learned from them is the difference between loving someone and liking them.

Relationships are complicated. Feelings are complicated. People are complicated.

Everything gets amplified when it’s family; today, when somehow the conversation turned to politics, I knew it was going to be a lot. It’s not a secret that members of my family disagree on some big political issues, it comes up at every Thanksgiving, Passover, and during heightened political time (like now). Most of the time I bow out politely because I’ve learned that’s a better option for my mental health. Today I engaged. Like every time this happens, after I reached my limit and left the conversation, I had to remind myself that I love my family even when I don’t like them.

There is a lot of pressure in society to love your family. And I’m sorry, but that’s a toxic value to push on people. First and foremost, some people, even people you’re related to, don’t deserve your love. People who abuse and hurt you? They don’t deserve your love, even if they are your parents or grandparents.

Blood doesn’t magically replace decency.

But more personally to me, the societal pressure of family first forgets a big distinction. You can care about someone, even love them, and still think they are shitty and not want to talk to them.

The person in my family this applies to most, for me, is a man I’m going to call Greg.

Greg is an instigator. He likes to say things he know will get a reaction and then chuckle when he sees you’ve bitten. Greg doesn’t listen. He’s a know it all. Sometimes he’s downright mean. And I don’t like him.

But I do love him.

Despite the things he says sometimes, I do believe Greg is a good person. He truly does believe in helping his fellow men and women. He has been good to me despite the things he’s called me. I appreciate him and am grateful for all that he as done for me and my family.

I care about him. I just don’t like him very often.

Through a lot of therapy and self reflection and ranting I finally understand the difference between liking someone and loving them. I finally understand that blood doesn’t mean as much as society wants you to think it does. And I’ve come to this conclusion:

I love my family, not because I have to, but because of what they have done for me and because I know they will always be there for me. There are members of my family I don’t like all the time. And that’s okay. You get to choose how you feel about other people. There is no inherent pass family gets on respecting you. So maybe you love someone, but you don’t have to like them.