Do you speak my language?

If you haven’t done the discover your love language test yet, I highly recommend that you do it now. If you have a significant other, I also suggest that they do it too. It’s a really fast way to confirm what you already suspected….

…that men and women are so different it’s a wonder we ever procreate.

I found this little gem of a test while listening to a podcast. I churn my way through a fair few podcasts during the three hours I spend getting to and from work every day and one morning while listening to Therapy Thursday on The Morning Stream, I was introduced to the languages of love.

You can read all about the languages yourself over at the webpage (and just ignore the heavy Christian ethos of the site if that’s not your thing) but it basically boils down to the idea that there are five distinct ways that people feel loved:

  1. Through words of affirmation
  2. Through acts of service
  3. Through physical touch
  4. Through receiving gifts
  5. Through spending quality time with other people

If you’ve ever read even one of my previous blog posts, you can probably guess that my top language of love is words of affirmation. This was followed closely by acts of service.

So basically I feel loved the most when I’m told I’m fabulous and have my toilet scrubbed.


Way down the bottom of my love languages were receiving gifts, spending quality time and physical touch – also a no-brainer, as I hate kissing and tend to verge on a hermit-like existence.

M also did the test and his number one by a mile was physical touch while acts of service and words of affirmation were near the bottom. So in terms of ‘being compatible’ we’re chalk and cheese.

None of this really came as a surprise to me. M and I are very different people, but over the years I think we’ve come to a happy place where we understand and accept each other’s differences i.e. he knows I need to be told I’m fabulous on a regular basis and he also makes a conscious effort to clean my toilet. I also realise that he needs the physical touch thing so I make a conscious effort to spend quality time with him and give him the boot & leash time that makes him feel loved.

The age-old cliche of men not having enough sex is linked to their feelings of being loved by experiencing physical touch. Women tend to feel love through things such as acts of service or receiving gifts and often bemoan the fact that their partner doesn’t ‘love them’ because they won’t vacuum the floor or give them flowers.

It’s fairly basic stuff that I thought I knew but it wasn’t until I was hit over the head with the answers to the test that it really dawned on me – we speak different languages and we have to learn to ‘speak’ each other’s language in order to make a relationship work.

Happy languaging everyone.


Oh shit…it’s 2013

2012 in summary:

  • I ran a half-marathon


Lucky I did that half-marathon or my summary for 2012 would be as empty as the notebook I bought 4 months ago for studying Korean. #Anotherfailedforeignlanguagestudyattempt (I don’t actually do the tweeter, but I just wanted to feel like a cool kid using a hash tag…)

I really haven’t had much to report. And while I’ve felt the need-to-blog-now! twitch in my fingers a couple of times over the past few months, I’ve successfully stilled my urges – usually by stuffing myself with food or taking a nap.

I discovered Girls a couple of weeks ago and I’ve been slowly getting caught up on Season 1. Watching it has been good therapy in that I’ve decided that getting older is not necessarily a bad thing – I don’t think I could cope with being young and stoopid again.

I had an idea when I was a kid that I’d get married around 33. I don’t know why I’d chosen 33, but it was my marriage cut-off for as long as I could remember. Instead of patiently waiting until I hit the ripe old age of 30-ish to think about ‘settling down’, I totally jumped the gun and got engaged when I was 21 and married when I was 25.



I was too young and too stupid to be making life-changing decisions like that. I should have been exploring and finding out what I liked and what I didn’t like. I should have tried lots of different things and learned some life skills instead of walking obliviously down that aisle.

That’s where I went wrong – and I have Girls to thank for teaching me that. All hail HBO.


If you haven’t seen it, Girls is Sex and the City meets Gossip Girl meets 50 Shades of Grey. It’s a weird mix of cringe-worthy sexual inexperience and relatable frumpy girl syndrome. I also think it’s another case of ‘mainstream’ media trying to throw in some bdsm elements just to ride on the 50 Shades bandwagon, but it’s interesting to see ‘normal’ reactions to stuff that I feel very comfortable about a.k.a ‘STOP PEEING ON ME!!’ and ‘If you’re going to stick it in that hole we need to talk about it first!’

Hearing reactions like that really does remind me that I’m a bit special.

And speaking of feeling special, at my office Christmas party the topic of 50 Shades of Grey came up. My 37 year old GM, 34 year old co-worker, 38 year old IT manager, 40 year old operations manager, 62 year old CEO (all boys) and myself were standing around in a circle with drinks in hand chatting before dinner when someone mentioned 50 Shades.

“What’s that?” asked my 37 year old GM

“It’s a novel with some bdsm in it,” I answered.

“What’s bdsm?”

And I laughed because I thought he was playing dumb. Then I realised that everyone around me was waiting patiently for the answer because no-one knew what it was.

And I felt the need to point out everyone’s ages while setting up that scene because almost everyone in that circle was around the same age as me. Now, I know the industry I’m in is agricultural and some of these people grew up on farms, but seriously, what rock have you been living under not to know what bdsm is?!?

I felt really, really special at that moment

The other thing I’ve been watching recently is yaoi anime. A little boy on boy animated action beats tentacles any day of the week I say.

I’m not so much into the sex scenes per se, but I’m into that bitter-sweet, I-love-you-but-I-shouldn’t thing that Japanese writers get so right most of the time. I sound like a fangirl, don’t I?