On love, flattery, self-respect, and the rather expensive mistake of confusing attention with affection.

I have always found it fascinating how easily human beings can be persuaded by beautiful packaging. Place an ordinary object inside an elegant box, wrap it in expensive paper, attach a ribbon, and suddenly it becomes considerably more attractive than it was five minutes earlier. We admire the presentation, imagine its value, and occasionally forget to examine what is actually inside. The advertising industry has understood this little weakness for generations. Unfortunately, so have certain people who possess an impressive talent for presenting themselves as something they are not. And while returning a disappointing purchase might be relatively straightforward, discovering that somebody has misrepresented their intentions in a relationship can become a far more complicated affair.

I suppose this is why I have become increasingly interested in the difference between being admired and being genuinely valued.

There is something undeniably pleasant about receiving a compliment. I would be pretending to possess extraordinary emotional discipline if I claimed that kind words never made me smile. Of course they do. Somebody notices something about us, expresses appreciation, and for a brief moment, the world becomes a slightly more agreeable place. A thoughtful compliment can make an ordinary day memorable, particularly when it recognises something we have worked hard to achieve or a quality we sincerely value.

But I have also noticed that not every pleasant remark carries the same intention.

Some people offer compliments because they genuinely appreciate something about another person. Others seem to possess a remarkable collection of flattering expressions, which they distribute with the efficiency of a salesman attempting to meet his monthly target. They know precisely what to say, when to say it, and how to make somebody feel unusually important. Their words can be charming, convincing, and occasionally so excessive that one begins wondering whether they have mistaken an ordinary conversation for a romantic film.

There is nothing inherently wrong with flattery, of course. People exaggerate affectionately, tease one another, and occasionally become rather enthusiastic when expressing admiration. The difficulty begins when pleasant words are used to obtain something rather than communicate something sincere.

A man may tell a woman that she is beautiful, intelligent, and unlike anybody he has ever met. Wonderful. But what happens when she disagrees with him? What happens when she refuses a request, expresses an opinion of her own, or fails to behave according to his expectations? Does his admiration remain, or does it disappear the moment it no longer produces the response he wanted?

I think that is when words become considerably easier to evaluate.

It is not particularly difficult to admire somebody when everything is going according to plan. The more interesting question is whether that admiration includes respect for the person’s independence, limitations, and decisions.

I would rather receive an ordinary compliment that reflects genuine appreciation than a collection of extraordinary declarations whose sincerity cannot survive a minor disagreement.

Besides, a man who tells me I am perfect has already demonstrated a rather questionable understanding of human nature. I know myself well enough to recognise that perfection is not among my most reliable qualities. I can be stubborn, impatient, sentimental, and occasionally convinced that I am correct long after circumstances have begun suggesting otherwise.

If somebody cannot recognise that I am an ordinary human being with strengths and shortcomings, I would be inclined to question whether he is appreciating me or merely admiring an imaginary person who happens to look like me.

Money introduces another interesting complication.

We live in a society where generosity is sometimes measured according to how much somebody spends. Expensive dinners, elaborate gifts, flowers, and carefully arranged surprises can certainly be enjoyable. I have no particular objection to receiving thoughtful presents, and I suspect most people appreciate being treated occasionally.

But I wonder when spending money became sufficient evidence of love.

A person can purchase an expensive gift without understanding what matters to the recipient. Somebody can arrange an impressive evening while remaining uninterested in the ordinary details of another person’s life. Generosity can be sincere, certainly, but money can also become a convenient substitute for attention, accountability, or emotional effort.

There is a difference between spending on someone and investing in a relationship.

Investment does not necessarily involve money. It may mean making time for meaningful conversations, remembering important details, supporting ambitions, or being willing to work through difficulties with patience and respect. It involves understanding that another person’s dreams and responsibilities do not disappear simply because a romantic relationship has begun.

A man who encourages a woman to pursue her education, develop her abilities, maintain her friendships, and make thoughtful decisions about her future is offering something that cannot be purchased from a jewellery shop.

And the same consideration should be extended in return.

Relationships, after all, should never become competitions in which one person provides everything while the other simply receives.

I think genuine affection becomes more apparent in ordinary circumstances than in extraordinary displays. It is easy to behave romantically during a carefully planned dinner. It is considerably more revealing to observe how somebody behaves when plans change, when money becomes limited, or when both people are tired and disagree about something important.

Does he listen? Can he apologise? Does he recognise that her concerns matter even when he does not fully understand them? Can they discuss responsibilities without one person automatically claiming authority over the other?

These questions may lack the glamour of expensive presents, but I suspect they are more useful when considering the kind of relationship worth building.

There is another distinction I consider particularly important: the difference between being cherished and being possessed.

I have never understood why some people describe excessive control as evidence of passionate affection. A man becomes jealous whenever his partner speaks to somebody else, questions where she goes, or attempts to determine whom she may consider a friend. Instead of recognising these behaviours as possible warning signs, others occasionally describe them as proof that he loves her deeply.

How extraordinary.

Apparently, we have reached a point where somebody restricting another person’s freedom can be mistaken for devotion.

I do not believe love gives anyone ownership of another human being.

A relationship may involve commitments, agreements, and responsibilities that both people willingly accept. Trust requires consideration, and partners should naturally think about how their decisions affect one another. But those responsibilities do not erase individual dignity.

A woman remains a person with her own thoughts, interests, relationships, and ambitions. She is neither an accessory to a man’s achievements nor an object whose value depends upon how proudly somebody displays her.

Being someone’s partner should never require surrendering the right to be oneself.

I also find it interesting that possessiveness is sometimes confused with protection. Genuine concern considers another person’s safety and wellbeing while respecting their judgement. Control, on the other hand, attempts to replace that judgement with somebody else’s authority.

The two can appear similar when expressed through affectionate language.

But their consequences are often very different.

A person who respects you should not need to diminish your independence to feel secure in the relationship.

Then there is physical attraction, another subject that has inspired an extraordinary amount of confusion throughout human history.

Attraction is a natural part of many romantic relationships. There is nothing particularly scandalous about finding someone appealing or enjoying the excitement of mutual affection. But attraction alone cannot tell us whether a person possesses the qualities necessary for a healthy partnership.

Being desired and being loved are not interchangeable experiences.

Someone may be fascinated by another person’s appearance without showing much curiosity about their personality, beliefs, or ambitions. Attraction can create excitement, but meaningful affection also involves consideration for the person’s feelings, boundaries, and wellbeing.

I sometimes think that romantic excitement has an unfortunate habit of making perfectly intelligent people temporarily forget the importance of observation.

We become interested in what somebody says rather than what they consistently do. We interpret attention as commitment and imagine that emotional intensity automatically indicates compatibility. We become so occupied with the pleasure of being wanted that we forget to ask whether we are also being understood.

And then, when disappointment arrives, we wonder how we failed to notice the difference.

Perhaps we noticed more than we were willing to admit.

That is an uncomfortable possibility, but one worth considering.

I do not believe women should spend their lives searching suspiciously for hidden motives in every kind gesture. Such an approach would make relationships exhausting and unfair to people whose intentions are entirely sincere. Trust is necessary, and genuine affection deserves the opportunity to develop without being subjected to endless interrogation.

But trust should be accompanied by judgement.

We can enjoy compliments without allowing them to determine our worth. We can appreciate gifts without confusing their monetary value with emotional commitment. We can experience attraction without immediately assuming that it guarantees love.

And we can take time to observe whether somebody’s behaviour agrees with the promises they make.

I have heard people describe themselves as though they are extraordinary gifts to anyone fortunate enough to attract their attention. There is a peculiar arrogance in that attitude. Confidence is attractive when it comes with self-awareness, but it becomes considerably less appealing when somebody believes their presence alone should inspire lifelong gratitude.

A relationship between two people should not resemble a royal appointment in which one person receives the honour of serving the other.

Both individuals bring something valuable to the relationship.

Both deserve respect.

And neither should have to prove their worth by accepting behaviour that consistently diminishes them.

My faith also influences the way I understand these things.

I believe that human dignity is not something we acquire through beauty, popularity, wealth, or romantic attention. Our worth is not determined by whether someone chooses to pursue us, remain with us, or recognise the qualities we possess.

As a Christian, I believe we are created with dignity and value before we ever enter a relationship. That belief reminds me that love should reflect kindness, honesty, patience, and respect rather than become an excuse for selfishness or control.

I find the familiar description of women as God’s gifts to men rather interesting, although I think it deserves a little consideration.

A woman is not a prize awarded to a deserving man, nor is a man automatically a blessing simply because he has entered somebody’s life. People are not possessions distributed according to romantic merit.

If we are to speak of relationships as gifts, perhaps the more meaningful understanding is that two people can become blessings in each other’s lives through the way they love, support, and treat one another.

And like any meaningful gift, that relationship deserves care rather than entitlement.

I sometimes wonder how many people remain in unsuitable relationships because they have confused being chosen with being valued.

There is something deeply appealing about knowing that somebody wants to be with us. It can offer reassurance, companionship, and the pleasure of feeling important to another person. But being chosen is only the beginning of a relationship, not evidence that everything which follows will necessarily be good.

What matters is how we are treated after the initial excitement has settled.

Does the person remain considerate when there is nothing to gain? Can disagreements be approached without humiliation or intimidation? Are both people allowed to develop as individuals? Is affection expressed through consistent behaviour rather than repeated promises that never become reality?

These are not especially romantic questions.

But I suspect they are the questions that eventually matter most.

And perhaps knowing our worth involves becoming comfortable enough with ourselves to ask them.

Self-respect is sometimes misunderstood as arrogance. People imagine a woman who knows her value as somebody who considers herself superior, demands perfection, or refuses to acknowledge her own shortcomings.

I see it differently.

Knowing your worth means recognising that you deserve honesty, consideration, and basic respect while understanding that the person beside you deserves those things as well. It does not require believing that you are flawless or expecting somebody else to satisfy every emotional need you possess.

It simply means that affection should never depend upon your willingness to accept mistreatment.

A woman can be kind without being endlessly accommodating. She can love deeply while maintaining boundaries. She can forgive someone without automatically restoring a relationship that has become harmful. And she can choose to remain single rather than enter a partnership that requires her to abandon the values she considers important.

There is no particular shame in waiting for a relationship that reflects those principles.

Nor should being in a relationship be considered proof that somebody has achieved a more successful life than a person who is single.

I think society occasionally forgets that romantic companionship is only one aspect of human experience. We also have families, friendships, personal interests, responsibilities, beliefs, and ambitions that contribute to who we are.

A partner may become an important part of our lives, but that person should not be required to become the entire explanation for our existence.

Perhaps the most useful lesson is learning to recognise what genuine affection looks like without expecting it to resemble a perfect romantic story.

Love may involve beautiful words, thoughtful gifts, and moments of excitement. It may also involve ordinary conversations, disagreements handled respectfully, practical support, and the quiet consistency of someone who means what they say.

There will be misunderstandings and occasions when both people behave imperfectly. Healthy relationships do not require flawless individuals. They require people willing to take responsibility, communicate honestly, and treat one another with consideration.

I do not expect a man to arrive carrying every admirable quality known to humanity.

That would be an unreasonable expectation, and I suspect he would be exhausted before introducing himself.

But I do believe there are qualities worth paying attention to: integrity, kindness, accountability, emotional maturity, and respect for another person’s individuality.

A charming introduction is pleasant.

A trustworthy character is far more useful.

And so, whenever I encounter those familiar comparisons between flattery and compliments, spending and investing, possession and respect, attraction and love, I find myself returning to one thought.

The difference is not always obvious during the beginning of a relationship.

People can make promises sincerely and still struggle to fulfil them. They can express affection beautifully while remaining inexperienced in the responsibilities of partnership. And sometimes, our own expectations can make it difficult to distinguish between what somebody actually offers and what we hope they might eventually become.

That is why time, communication, and observation matter.

We do not need to approach every relationship with suspicion, but neither should we surrender our judgement simply because somebody knows how to make us smile.

After all, a beautiful box is still only a box until we discover what it contains.

And if I have learned anything from the peculiar business of shopping, it is that expensive packaging does not always guarantee excellent quality.

Sometimes the most impressive item in the shop turns out to be disappointingly ordinary once the ribbon has been removed.

Other times, something modest and unassuming proves far more valuable than its appearance initially suggested.

Perhaps relationships deserve a similarly thoughtful examination, although I would strongly advise against treating people like products awaiting inspection.

We are all more complicated than that.

Still, I think I shall remember the lesson the next time somebody attempts to impress me with an extraordinary collection of compliments and grand declarations.

I can appreciate the words.

I can enjoy the attention.

But I would rather understand the person.

Because gold plating may be convincing from a distance, especially under flattering light.

It is what remains beneath the surface that determines whether something is worth keeping.

For every woman learning to recognise her worth, and every person who believes love should be accompanied by respect rather than entitlement.

— Just Anj