What is Real Love? The Space to Heal

11-09-2025

By Dr. Howard Friedman, M.D. | Veteran | U.S. Army Medical Corps | Internal Medicine | HHOM LLC

Love isn’t the hand that pulls you out of the dark—it’s the arm around your shoulder while you learn to stand there without fear.

Poem — Before I Knew Love

I knew the rules,

the uniforms, the silence of being strong.

But I did not know love.

Not the kind that stays

when the lights are off

and the voice in your head is loud.

Love came quietly—not to fix me,

but to stand beside me until I could face myself.

—Dr. Howard Friedman, M.D.

This essay is the first half of a two-part exploration. Here, I focus on love—its power, its spark, and the way it draws two people together. In Part II, I turn to the deeper story: the work, commitment, and daily choices that actually build a relationship over time.

Every year, love gets a date on the calendar—February 14th. Candy, roses, polished words on cards. But that isn’t love. Those are decorations. Love is not made of sugar or petals. Love is what remains when all of that is gone. Scripture said it long before the greeting card industry existed: Love your neighbor as yourself. But we quote it more than we live it. And the truth hidden inside those words is this—you cannot love your neighbor if you do not know how to love yourself.

For most of my life, I didn’t understand what real love was. I thought I did. I knew loyalty, duty, responsibility. But inside, there was always a quiet voice saying, You’re less than. You’re not enough. The military didn’t erase that voice. It made it louder. In that world, you don’t show weakness. You push it down and keep moving. But the voice keeps whispering: You’re only as good as your last success. You don’t measure up. I carried that voice into adulthood. Into relationships. Into myself.

I was in a long-term relationship that collapsed under the weight of that unspoken truth. I expected someone else to fix what was broken in me. I wanted her love to quiet the pain I refused to face. But love doesn’t work that way. When it ended, I was devastated. I sat alone for days with nothing but silence and that familiar voice—You see? You’re unlovable. But in that silence, I made a decision. I would search for love—not the kind that fills emptiness, but the kind that is real. But to do that, I first had to learn to love the hardest person in my life—myself.

That’s when I met Ibojka. And for the first time, I understood love not as an idea, but as a living thing. Her love wasn’t loud. It didn’t try to fix me. It didn’t tell me I was perfect. It made it safe for me to tell the truth about who I was. Safe to face myself. Safe to heal. That was the greatest gift I have ever received—love that didn’t demand I be whole before I was worthy of it. Love that said, You don’t have to hide anymore. Love that gave me the courage to stop running from myself.

Love is not fixing someone else. Love is standing beside them while they fix themselves. It is not two broken people trying to complete each other. It is two whole people choosing each other—synergy, not dependency. The voice in my head still escapes sometimes, still tries to tell me I’m less than. But it no longer controls the story. Love didn’t erase that voice—it just gave me the strength to turn its volume down.

Once I understood that kind of love, I couldn’t ignore what the world is suffering from. Not a lack of intelligence. Not a lack of technology. Not even a lack of resources. The greatest shortage in our world is love. Real love. The kind that sees someone, stays with them, and says, I’m not here to fix you—but you won’t face this alone. People don’t become cruel because they are loved too much. They become cruel because they’ve carried pain alone for too long. Families don’t fall apart because love failed—they fall apart because love got replaced—with pride, silence, control, or fear.

The Bible’s greatest commandment is not complicated. Love God. Love your neighbor. Love yourself. Not occasionally. Not when it’s easy. Not when it’s convenient or romantic. Always. Because love is not a feeling—it is a way of seeing. A way of staying. A way of choosing another person’s worth even when they cannot see it themselves. I used to wait for someone to love me enough to erase my pain. Now I know—real love doesn’t erase pain. It gives you the courage to walk through it. That is what I found with Ibojka. That is the love I try to give. And that is the love the world is starving for.

Poem — What Love Is

Love is not rescue.It is a hand,

open—not pulling you forward,

but standing beside you

so you don’t walk alone.

Love is the voice that whispers,

You are still worthy, even when your own says otherwise.

It does not silence the pain.

It gives it a place to rest,

until it no longer rules you.

That is the love that found me.

That is the love I choose to give.

—Dr. Howard Friedman, M.D.

—Dr. Howard Friedman, M.D.

Board-Certified | Internal Medicine | Veteran | U.S. Army Medical Corps

Founder of Howard’s House of Medicine (HHOM LLC)

https://www.hhomllc.com

Frequently Asked Questions:

Q: How do I know if I’m looking for love to rescue me instead of to grow with me?

A: Look at what you expect the relationship to solve.If you're hoping another person will quiet your inner pain, prove your worth, or make you feel whole, you're asking love to do a job that belongs to you. Real love doesn’t erase wounds—it gives you a safe space to face them. When the goal shifts from "save me" to "stand with me while I learn to save myself," you're moving toward healthy love.

Q: Is it possible to love someone deeply while still protecting your boundaries?

A: Not only is it possible—it's required.

Love without boundaries isn't love, it's abandonment of self. When you set limits, you're not pushing someone away; you’re creating the structure where both people can be honest and safe. Boundaries aren’t walls—they're doors with locks. They tell the other person, "You’re welcome here, but not at the cost of myself."

Q: What does it actually feel like when love is safe rather than rescuing?

A: Safe love feels calm, not dramatic.

You don’t feel pressured to perform, prove, or hide. You can speak truth without fearing abandonment. Safe love holds space for who you are today and who you’re becoming. It doesn’t rush your healing, and it doesn’t crumble when you’re imperfect. It says, "I’m here with you—not to fix you, but to walk with you."