Sacrifices

I have been reflecting on this scenario where people seem to want those in their lives to be at their weakest in service to them. What I mean is, there are certain moments and situations where someone becoming vulnerable or diminished on your behalf and you view this as a romantic gesture.

There is this meme that was once uploaded by a friend of mine to social media. In the image, there is a man and a woman, presumably a couple, standing at what looks like a shop counter. The man is wearing high heels and carrying a purse, while the woman beside him is in sneakers. Alone, a man in heels might already draw attention, but in the presence of his partner, the picture invites a different interpretation. It implies a backstory: they must have been walking together, and the woman was struggling with her footwear. In response, the man chose to wear the heels and carry the bag, a gesture seemingly meant to ease her discomfort.

What fascinates me is how differently this image is interpreted based on who is viewing it. Many women see it as a touching act of love, a man willingly choosing discomfort, and perhaps even public embarrassment, in service of his partner. It is read as a romantic gesture, a sign of care and devotion. On the other hand, most men I have spoken to view it with skepticism or even disdain. They see a man “simping,” performing a kind of virtue signaling, betraying his own sense of self just to gain favor from his girlfriend. It becomes less about love and more about performance, not just in public, but of masculinity, submission, and the lengths one is expected to go in the name of affection.

Why is it that we sometimes want the people we love to be at their worst to prove their love for us? If you’re with someone who finds it very difficult to do certain things you consider romantic, whether it’s because of how they were raised, their emotional wiring, or simply who they are, and you keep pushing them to perform these acts despite their discomfort, what does that say? When they finally do it, knowing full well they dislike it, and you sit there feeling loved and broadcasting to the world, “Look at what my person did for me,” even though you know deep down they despised doing it, it makes me question the psychology behind it all.

Media figures and movies have long portrayed this particular version of love, where sacrifice, struggle, or humiliation are seen as the highest form of devotion. Characters who go through hardship for their partners are celebrated, as if love only becomes valid when it’s proven through suffering. But why do we reward that so instinctively? Is it rooted in our upbringing, where praise was given when we completed difficult tasks or endured discomfort? Perhaps we were taught that struggle equals worth, that if something was hard, it must be meaningful. Or it is more subtle: maybe there is a quiet power we feel when someone sacrifices themselves for us. Their discomfort becomes our validation. It makes us feel chosen, important, even if it comes at their expense.

Why would I want my partner to be at their lowest point just to prove they love me? Isn’t the real point of love to be there for someone when they are at their worst, not by making it worse, but by supporting and strengthening them? Why don’t we celebrate when people show us love through their strength? If someone expresses love through what they are good at, their intellect, their strength, their hands, their negotiation skills, why don’t we see that as romantic?

Maybe it’s time we ask ourselves: is strength not just as valuable, perhaps even more so, than sacrifice when it comes to love? A good starting point might be acknowledging the ask itself. Be honest about what you are truly requesting when you want someone to prove their love through discomfort or self-betrayal. Is it really love you are after, or is it validation, control, or reassurance?

These moments might feel romantic, even cinematic, but they deserve deeper questioning. Why are they so appealing? Why does someone else’s discomfort make us feel more chosen, more loved?

Perhaps we need to unlearn the idea that love is best shown through weakness, strain, or suffering. Maybe we ought to do less of that, to ask less of that. Instead, we could learn to see strength as an act of love. Not the kind that demands applause, but the kind that comes naturally, from a person doing what they do best, and choosing to do it for you.