Twenty. That's how many weddings I shot in 2018 as a wedding filmmaker, and that's how many couples I've witnessed embark in the romantic tradition of love through ceremonial spectacle. As Aristotle puts it, love that is "composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.”
But what stems from this poetic union of two perfect swipes matches? A spiritual bliss? Unconditional passion? A fulfilled soul? Maybe. But there is a definite partner in crime to romantic love we all need to control: ego.
Not the Freudian ego, but that Kanye ego. You see it in films, you hear it in music and you feel your eyes rolling back when your lab partner urges you to believe that they "meet the perfect criteria" for their Friday-night-fling. Or better yet, the heavenly Friday-night-fling "fits all my checkboxes."
This is only the bark of the evergreen ego, which we can define using author Ryan Holiday's definition as an "unhealthy belief in our own importance” found in his book Ego Is the Enemy. This is synonymous with arrogance, vanity and of course, Kanye.
The ego in love inflates our own level of significance, while at the same time projecting ambitious standards for another to meet. With this principle narcissism, we begin to see the clinging relationship of ego with "romantic love" — which we can describe through the wisdom of Alain de Botton as a lifelong passion of unconditional affection, monogamous sex of the deepest expressions, independent of any logical reasoning and relying only on instinctual emotions and feelings.
Take that in — romantic love lives solely on emotion without logic. To the casual reader, these childish thoughts may seem obvious, but reflecting deeper, we begin to see signs within ourselves and our closest circle. We must control this. Let's take a look throughout your life.
Going back to where this all began, childhood is where we first experienced love. Most can associate child affection with a loving authority. Whether we called them our parent, sibling, relative, or neighbour, we needed them. The attachment theory research of John Bowlby throughout the 1900's, followed by Prof. Sue Johnson's couples therapy research today, brings sound evidence for our dependence on others. When we screamed for food, we got it. When we cried to be held, we got it. When we laughed for playtime, we got it. This is a good thing. Relying on others is the fundamental reason our species has survived millennia. The downside is in its longevity and growth through life.
Yes, we need others in life, and yes, our deepest instinct is to seek attachment, as outlined by Prof. Johnson, but the feedback loop of the Ariana Grande-esque "I want it, I got it" is the root that sprouts the dark ego of romance. Getting things as children paves the way for this underlying principle of romantic love: When we want something, we'll find a way to get it.
Which brings us to the next step of the growing ego in love. Found in puberty, high school, college or university, new experiences with decreased micromanagement and guidance. This is when the ego begins to experiment. Our claustrophobic wants begin to explore outside the supervised home and seeks easier ways to be watered. Whether through becoming captain of the volleyball team, taking the alto sax solo in band and most notably, finding a significant other to seek love and affection from.
This is also the point where ego meets romance. Our idea of love at this time is heavily influenced by the media, family and friends, and I'm willing to bet they all follow the blueprint of romantic love defined above. The fairytale love. The princess and prince charming love.
The budding ego spreads its roots and leaves into new terrain, searching for nourishment through this angelic and socially-acceptable soil called romance. This fair ground is for taking, stemming from it the seedling motto of “doing it because you want it” which only leads to the growth of our selfish plant called ego.
This is when our ego blooms the biggest, taking our primal egotistic need for affection and mixing it with the socially-acceptable irrationality of love. It almost becomes Machiavellian in the way it finds love.
Robert Greene, author of The Laws Of Human Nature, highlights a few archetypes of the folly relationship: the victim types that need saving, the saviour types to save victims, the devilish romantics of seduction, the image of perfection that never comes to fruition and the straight-up "they'll worship my ego indefinitely and unconditionally because of who I am" type.
Nowhere near complete, these types in relationships are ever-present. They may not come to mind right away when we think of romance, but when we look deeply at traditional love stories, the Romeos and Juliettes, the Snow Whites and Prince Charmings, there they are. And when we look beside us, there they are.
Is this a bad thing? Aristotle once said that to fix the warped curvature of wood, one must apply pressure in the opposite direction. And I do believe that regulating our growth should be at the forefront of any visionary. But is this subjective idea of "true love" really a disservice to our growing forest of human interaction?
Yes, I do believe this traditional view of love has well overstayed its visit. Especially with our cultural shift towards individuality and independence. And the first step to grow with the grain is understanding and loosening our ego.
For better or for worse, it's our ego trying to keep up with the Kardashians Joneses in love. But they're not you, and only you know what climate is best to grow love. Not Disney, not the latest country ballad and not the many wedding films found online. There are 7.4B definitions of love, and we need to rid our ego of any unexamined soil.
This means stop assuming that relationships are the norm. Stop associating sex with love. Logical thinking can be just as divine as cupid's arrow. You don't need to love everything about someone to love them. Arguments are arguments, and not signs from a higher power. We can't put full responsibility on another to complete ourselves. And above all, it doesn't make you any less of a person to love someone.
Let go the ego to let love grow.
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Emily Scott
Video Editor
It is easier to be anonymous than it is to be a highly involved student on campus.
Sure, there are hundreds of clubs shaking flyers at you as you walk with your head down through the hallway of MUSC (and if you are in residence the sometimes painfully awkward floor gatherings). If you are lucky enough to be in a small program that you enjoy, you might look forward to seeing recognizable faces in your regular sized lecture rooms, and feel accountable for attendance because you know that your professor actually knows your name.
But for others, after the business of frosh week dies down, after you discover you do not and never will possess the skills to be a varsity athlete, after you don’t need to ask anyone how to get to TSH 120, it is a lot easier to become anonymous.
A typical day consists of snagging a bagel and a coffee from home, or maybe a ready-made Centro breakfast for you residence folk, showing up to an 8:30 a.m. lecture with 300 other people, and sitting in the back so you don’t bother anyone with the sounds of your snacking. An hour in between class means find a spot in the busy student centre (try the third floor) to check each social feed a couple of times before glancing at the essay outline and taking a quick nap. Another coffee sometimes helps too.
After the day of class is done, you could go check out whatever is happening in the atrium, but nah, your bed and an episode of New Girl seems a lot more appetizing. Come Friday, and the world is a better place. Gather the others, drink, go out, come home (or at least to a house), sleep it off, and repeat until Monday.
It’s not a surprise to me that university is where people find themselves in crisis mode for the first time. Not because you haven’t had to study before, because the culture of university, while busy and exciting to the outside observer, easily fosters a lifestyle of anonymity. If that doesn’t bother you, props to you my friend.
But being anonymous makes it easier to struggle, and not think you need to reach out. It makes it easier to drown in your schoolwork and never bother to ask for help. It is an easy life to get used to, but it is in no way the most appealing.
Let’s not hide in our achievement of being a stranger, or forget that we’re surrounded by thousands of others like us. If you are feeling alone, chances are other people are too. Think about what you loved back in high school, and find the university equivalent. Or find something new to love.
Go out to an event, a club, a meeting. Tell someone if you hate the idea of being alone. If you are an introvert like me, the idea of it can be quite exasperating. It’s a big place, but being anonymous is no way to fill your spot.
