There’s a kind of love that feels good, sounds right, and even looks admirable from a distance—but when examined closely, it is rooted not in care for others but in the elevation of self.

We live in a culture that often confuses love with desire, attention, or validation. “Love yourself first,” we’re told—and while there is a sacred place for self-worth and healthy boundaries, things start to unravel when self-love becomes the center of our relational compass. When the goal of love shifts from giving to gaining, from serving to being served, we’re no longer practicing love—we’re practicing self-interest with a pretty disguise.

True love, by nature, is outward-facing. It seeks the good of the other. It is patient, kind, not self-seeking. These words from 1 Corinthians 13 aren’t just poetic—they are countercultural. They push back against the idea that love is something we pursue for personal fulfillment alone.

A love that revolves around self asks: “How do you make me feel?”

A genuine love asks: “How can I care for you well, even when it costs me something?”

This doesn’t mean love should be self-erasing or allow for abuse. Healthy love includes mutuality and respect. But when one person becomes the sole beneficiary of a relationship—when “love” becomes a means to feel superior, needed, or adored—it begins to lose its essence.

Even in faith, we can fall into this trap. We may say we love others, but if we’re only extending kindness to feel morally superior or to control how others perceive us, we’re not truly loving—we’re managing an image.

Jesus modeled a love that knelt low, that served, that forgave, that stayed—even when misunderstood or betrayed. His love wasn’t self-serving, but self-giving. And it’s that kind of love that changes hearts, heals wounds, and transforms relationships.

So today, if we claim to love someone, let’s examine our hearts. Is our love conditional on what we receive in return? Are we more invested in being seen as loving than actually sacrificing for others?

Because at the end of the day, a love focused on self may feel like love—but it doesn’t bear the fruit of it.

Real love gives. Real love endures. Real love frees.

Until next time,