On love

I've been thinking about what it really means to love someone.

When we talk about love, we usually mean something romantic. We talk about attraction, about wanting someone, about how they make us feel. And I think we confuse a lot of that with love. You can want someone very badly without being particularly interested in what is good for them.

The example I keep coming back to is a mother's love for her child. I know it's a cliché, but there is a reason we return to it. At its best, that love is unconditional. The child can disappoint her. They can disobey her, hurt her, or fail to appreciate everything she has done. They might never love her back in quite the same way. And still, she loves them.

She wants the child to be well. That remains true even when the child is making her life difficult.

I think we have lost some understanding of this. There is an idea that you should love someone for as long as they are good to you, for as long as they make you happy, for as long as the relationship gives you what you want. The moment those things change, the love is supposed to disappear.

But if my love for you depends entirely on what you give me, then what exactly am I loving? You, or what I get from you?

Two people can have perfectly aligned incentives. They can enjoy each other's company, help each other, give each other attention, and make each other's lives easier. There is nothing wrong with any of that. But love has to mean something beyond the arrangement. Otherwise, the moment it stops working in one person's favour, there is nothing left.

And this applies to friends and family just as much as it does to romantic relationships.

I also think we struggle with the fact that love involves suffering. When you care deeply about someone, what happens to them matters to you. Their pain affects you. Their mistakes can hurt you. Sometimes caring for them asks more of you than you feel able to give.

A mother loses sleep for her child. She worries about them. She makes sacrifices they may not understand until much later, if they ever understand them at all. She does these things because she loves the child. The suffering itself is not what makes the love valuable. But she is willing to go through it for their sake.

You cannot claim to love someone while making your own comfort a condition of that love. At some point, it will ask something of you.

That is why patience matters so much. It is easy to be patient with someone who does exactly what you want. The difficulty comes when you have explained something again and again, when you have been let down, when you are tired and frustrated. Love asks you to remain patient then too.

It asks you to be kind when you have a reason to be angry. To try to understand the other person's viewpoint when your first instinct is to judge them. To resist the urge to make them suffer simply because you have suffered.

Think of a mother trying to help a child who keeps making the same mistake. She may be disappointed. She may have to be firm. But she still wants the child to learn and do well. Getting back at them would achieve nothing she actually wants for them.

You can correct someone and love them. You can tell them they are wrong and love them. What matters is whether you are trying to help them or simply trying to hurt them back.

Envy is another part of this that I think deserves more attention, particularly in friendship.

If you love your friend, you should want good things to happen to them. That includes good things you have not had yourself. Better opportunities. Greater success. A life that, in some respects, may be easier than yours.

A mother does not resent her child for having opportunities she never had. She is happy that they have them. Their success gives her joy. When they suffer, she suffers with them.

That is what we should want for the people we say we love. To rejoice when they rejoice, and weep when they weep. If I am secretly pleased when my friend fails because it makes me feel better about myself, I have to be honest about that. I cannot simply call it love.

Love also requires humility. You cannot make every interaction an opportunity to remind the other person how great you are, how much you know, or how much they owe you. A mother's care would become something very different if every act came with a reminder of what a wonderful mother she was.

The same is true of keeping count. Every disappointment recorded. Every mistake brought back into the next argument. Every good thing you have done held over the other person's head.

How can you be gracious towards someone if you are constantly calculating their debt to you?

And loving someone does not mean insisting that they live exactly as you would like. A mother can care deeply about her child and still let them stretch their wings. She can want them close and still understand that they have a life of their own.

That is difficult. Sometimes putting another person first means accepting a choice you would not have made for them. It means taking their interests seriously, even when those interests differ from yours.

None of this is easy. It is much easier to say that you love someone than to be patient with them, to celebrate their success without comparing it to your own, or to remain compassionate when they have disappointed you. These are things you have to practise, especially when you do not feel like practising them.

But I think that is what the word asks of us.

Love cannot just mean that I care about you while you are useful to me, while you agree with me, or while you make me feel good about myself. It has to survive disappointment. It has to leave room for the other person to be imperfect. It has to keep wanting what is good for them, even when there is nothing to gain.

Otherwise, we are describing an alignment of incentives. A trading of attention, time, goods and services. A business deal.

If I say I love you, I have to mean that your good matters to me beyond what you can give me. And I cannot put an expiry date on that.

With Thanks To

There are lots of people I am thankful for; my parents for one. I could write about so many people that I am thankful for but here, I’ll start with peers.

Shakil

Shakil is one of my closest friends, and I could not have asked for a more supportive one.

There have been times when I felt I was at the very bottom. I would call him crying, depressed and wanting to give everything up, and he would pick up. Even if it was two in the morning for him, he would make time for me. I am immensely grateful for that.

But what means just as much to me is how consistent he has been outside those moments. People tend to be more sympathetic when someone is visibly struggling. Shakil has cared about me just as much at every other point. At KSP, where we were co-founders, in college and since college, he has always supported me. I have always felt that he wanted the best for me.

Even at college, when I felt down, he would lift me back up. He is kind, he is funny, and we have so many great memories together. When I think about our friendship, I think about all the laughter as much as the difficult conversations. I owe him a lot. I am so thankful that I got to meet him.

Isaac

When I first recruited Isaac Lee into Entangl, I had no idea how much he would change my life. He has been on the team for less than a year, but he has already made me a better person.

A lot of that has come through his Christian faith and what he has taught me. Iron sharpens iron, and Isaac has sharpened me. He tells me the things I need to hear. He has taught me to be kinder, to be more forgiving and to think differently about how I live and how I treat people. He has made the team better, too.

I used to crash out a lot. It happens much much less now, and I do not think I would have made that change in the same way without him. His arrival in my life has changed its direction in ways that go well beyond work. I brought him into the company expecting him to contribute to what we were building. I did not expect him to have such a profound effect on the person I was becoming.

For example, I felt deeply depressed this week. Being back home brought back traumatic memories of everything my father had gone through and the pain of not being able to be there for him. I felt comfortable enough to cry in front of him and let it all out. Afterwards, I felt much better.

I am also grateful to his father, who prays for me all the time. I am sure those prayers have helped keep me going. To be cared for in that way means a great deal to me.

Gleb

Gleb has a special place in my heart. When I was going through everything, he was there to speak with me, listen to me vent and hear me out. I appreciated it then, and I still do. He has also always been a joy to be around. I like his company and I like to hear his opinions on things.

I regret that he left Entangl. I wish he had stayed, and I wish I had played my part better. But alongside that regret is a lot of gratitude for him and for the time we have shared. When he left, I cried a lot - which I think is something I don’t do a lot - but how lucky am I to have someone that I would cry for.

It is hard to put into words how important Gleb has been in my life. It can only be underestimated. I am not sure I would be here if I didn’t have Gleb in the team. This is partly because he sleeps at US hours so when I was going through the toughest moments of my life, he always made time for me when he was in the UK and that matters. It is hard to describe how broken I was at one moment in my life.

I remember one night Gleb walked with me along the San Francisco coast and he shared stories about his Father and how he understands the stress that I was going through. He didn’t have to. I didn’t ask him. He offered himself to meet me there.

He is still one of the first people I reach out to when I have good news, and someone I want to see whenever I am nearby. I care about him a lot.

Aaron

Aaron Bendor is someone I often describe very simply: he is such a good human being. If anyone has a place in heaven, I think Aaron does.

From the first time I met him, I felt that he was a kind soul. That impression has only grown stronger. Even when he has faced hostility for being pro-Israel, he has remained civil and caring, and has been willing to be friends with people who do not wish him well. I admire that enormously.

I also think he is an exceptional leader. If I had to put my money on someone having an immensely successful life, Aaron would be one of the first people I would choose. He is smart, but he is also kind, understanding, patient and empathetic. I have never seen him lose his temper. I have never seen him become angry or take his frustration out on someone or become jealous or become annoyed or ignore/stonewall others.

On my final day at KSP, he sent me a message that I still remember. He expressed his thanks for me and for the things I had done, but he also told me how I could be better. He was not flattering me, and he was not talking down to me. It was thoughtful, honest and generous.

That is something I value deeply in a friend: someone who can tell me what I need to hear in a way that makes me stronger. Aaron managed to make me feel appreciated while giving me something to think about. That message has stayed with me.

I have seen almost everyone do some small thing they probably should not have done. With Aaron, I honestly cannot think of one. I have never seen him do anything bad, even in the smallest way. That is a remarkable thing to be able to say about someone you know.

I owe each of these people a great deal. I want them to know that, and I want to remember it myself.