Why your love was somehow never enough
Your love was somehow never enough.
You gave everything. You showed up. You provided. You listened. You tried harder when it didn't work, and then harder again. You bent yourself into shapes you didn't recognize trying to make them feel loved.
And still: "It's not enough."
You started to believe them. Maybe I'm broken. Maybe I don't know how to love. Maybe I'm just... not enough.
What if that was never true?
What if the problem was never how much you gave—but which door you were pouring it through?
In martial arts, there's a distinction every serious student eventually learns: hard styles and soft styles.
Karate. Taekwondo. Direct force. Meet resistance head-on. Structure. Power. The fist.
Aikido. Tai Chi. Redirection. Move with resistance. Flow. Presence. The open hand.
Beginners think you choose one. Hard or soft. Strike or yield.
Masters know better. The real skill isn't having a style—it's reading what the moment needs and responding with precision.
A strike when you should have yielded will get you hurt. A yield when you should have struck will get you hurt worse.
Mastery isn't choosing. Mastery is range.
Love works the same way.
Structure. Protection. Providing. Boundaries. Discipline. "I'll keep you safe." What you do.
Presence. Attunement. Warmth. Witness. "I see you." What you are with them.
Hard love meets needs—survival, stability, the things that keep you intact.
Soft love honors wants—connection, recognition, the things that make you feel alive.
Both are real. Both are necessary. A child who only gets structure grows up capable but hollow. A child who only gets warmth grows up seen but unmoored.
Full love requires both channels open.
And here's where it gets complicated:
These channels work in both directions. You can give through hard or soft. And you can receive through hard or soft.
Most people have one channel stronger than the other. That's normal. That's just your style.
But some people have one channel completely blocked.
Think about someone who was never satisfied. No matter how much you gave.
You provided—they wanted presence.
So you gave presence—they wanted action.
So you took action—they wanted softness.
So you softened—they wanted strength.
Around and around. The target always moving. Nothing ever landing.
Here's what was actually happening:
They could only receive through the hard channel. The soft one—the one that could actually carry what they were starving for—was bricked up.
They weren't being difficult. They weren't playing games (well—some were). Many were genuinely starving. Genuinely empty. Genuinely wondering why nothing ever filled them up.
Because the channel that could carry what they needed... they'd sealed it shut.
Nobody's born with a sealed channel.
Watch a toddler. They can receive love in any form. A hug. A boundary. A silly face. A firm "no" that keeps them safe. They haven't learned yet that some doors are supposed to stay closed.
The block comes later. From messages. From modeling. From pain.
Somewhere along the way, someone installed a lie about the soft channel:
The soft channel—the one that carries resonance, presence, being-seen—got associated with pain. With rejection. With danger.
So they bricked it up. Survival strategy. Smart, actually, given what they were surviving.
But now they can only receive through the hard channel.
Only what you DO counts. Only what you PROVIDE registers. Only what you PROVE gets through.
Performance. Transaction. Achievement.
Here's the trap.
They're starving for soft love—resonance, presence, being truly seen. That's the hunger. That's the ache.
But soft love can only enter through the soft channel. The one they sealed.
So they ask for it through the only channel they have open: hard. "Do more. Provide more. Prove more."
And you do. God, you do. You pour and pour.
But hard love meets needs. And needs are bottomless when they're substituting for wants.
You cannot fill a resonance-shaped hole with structure.
It's like trying to cure thirst by eating. The food is real. The effort is real. But it's going to the wrong place.
So they stay hungry. And they tell you—honestly, from their experience—"It's not enough."
They're not lying. It really isn't enough. It can't be.
The door that could receive what they need is the door they refuse to open.
Now for the darker part.
Some people genuinely don't know their channel is blocked. They're confused, not cruel. They're suffering too.
But some people... have learned to use it.
"It's not enough" isn't always a report of their experience.
Sometimes it's a leash.
Because as long as you believe you haven't given enough, you'll keep trying. Keep pouring. Keep bending. Keep performing. Keep proving.
As long as the target keeps moving, you keep chasing.
So "not enough" keeps you on the hook. Keeps you doubting yourself. Keeps the problem located in your inadequacy rather than their sealed door.
You can't fill someone who won't open.
And some people need you to keep failing.
Before you nod too comfortably—before you file this under "things I learned about that person"—
Ask yourself:
Which channel do YOU have blocked?
Because this isn't just about them. The virus doesn't only infect other people.
Think about it:
Maybe you're great at receiving hard love. Someone does something for you? Great. Clear. Countable. Safe.
But someone just... loves you? Sees you? Sits with you in your mess without trying to fix it?
Does that get in? Or does it bounce off a wall you forgot you built?
The lies that sealed their channel might have sealed yours too:
If you can only receive through one channel, you're starving too. Just like them. Running the same program. Bricked up by the same virus.
In martial arts, the master doesn't ask "Am I a hard-style fighter or a soft-style fighter?"
The master asks: "What does this moment need?"
And then delivers—precisely—what's called for. Hard when hard serves. Soft when soft heals. Fluid between both. Limited by neither.
Love kung fu is the same.
Can you give hard love when structure is needed—and soft love when presence is needed?
Can you receive through both channels? Let action land AND let witness land?
This is the practice. Not picking a style. Developing range.
The blocked channel isn't missing. It's just locked. And locks can be picked—if you're willing to face why you installed them in the first place.
Your love was never "not enough."
You were pouring water into a cup with no bottom—or a cup turned upside down. The problem wasn't the amount. It was the aperture.
And if you recognized yourself in the mirror section—if you realized you might have a sealed channel too—that's not an indictment. That's the beginning.
Hard love without soft becomes control.
Soft love without hard becomes collapse.
The balance is where love actually lives.
And balance requires both doors open—in both directions.
You can learn to receive what you've been refusing.
You can learn to give what you've been withholding.
You can stop pouring into people who won't open—and stop being the person who won't open.
🥋 Begin there. 🥋