We Are the Love We Give, Not the Love We Receive - Says the Gita

The Bhagavad Gita teaches a similar wisdom through the principle of Nishkama Karma - action without attachment to the result. It does not tell us to stop acting. It tells us to stop clinging to the outcome. Love, too, is a form of action. And when love is given without clinging, it transforms the giver.

The sun rises every day. It warms oceans, grows forests, nourishes crops. It does not pause to ask which mountain thanked it or which river acknowledged its effort. Its nature is to shine. When we love only after calculating whether it will return, we dim ourselves. We ration warmth. We shine selectively. But when love becomes our nature instead of our negotiation, something inside stabilizes. The question shifts from “Will this come back to me?” to “Who am I becoming by giving this?”

The sun does not lose light by shining. We do not lose love by giving. What exhausts us is not generosity. It is expectation. The Gita reminds us: we have control over our actions, not over the fruits of those actions. When love is offered with the demand of return, we bind ourselves to disappointment. When it is offered as expression of our nature, we remain free.

A river flows forward. It nourishes villages, fills wells, sustains fields. It does not stop to consume what it carries. In the same way, the love we give does not exist for us to experience directly. It moves outward. It shapes others. It leaves ripples we may never see. Many of us suffer because we try to drink from our own river. We want the same intensity back, the same loyalty, the same effort. When it does not return in equal measure, we feel rejected.

But a river that stops flowing becomes a swamp. Flow is life. Your character is not formed by how others respond to you. It is formed by how consistently you remain aligned with your values. You are not empty because someone failed to pour into you. You are empty only when you stop flowing. The Gita calls this alignment with one’s true nature Dharma — acting according to what is right within you, not according to how the world reacts.

When we look into a mirror, we see a reflection. But reflections depend on angle, light, and distortion. Other people are like mirrors. Sometimes they reflect affection. Sometimes indifference. Sometimes their own wounds. If we allow their response to define our worth, we become dependent on distorted glass. Your love is not validated by someone else's capacity to receive it.

Some people cannot hold what you offer. Not because it lacks value, but because their hands are full of fear, insecurity, or pain. A diamond placed in muddy water does not lose its worth. The Gita speaks repeatedly about steadiness - about being equal in praise and blame, gain and loss. This is not emotional numbness. It is inner clarity. It means knowing that your action reflects your character, not their readiness. Mature love understands this.

When you plant a seed, you do not dig it up the next day to check whether it has grown. Love works the same way. You may offer patience to a difficult parent. Compassion to a partner who is struggling. Encouragement to a friend who doubts themselves. Kindness to a stranger who will never know your name. You may never see the outcome. But seeds grow underground long before they break the surface.

Some of the love you give today will bloom in ways you will never witness. Some will transform someone silently. Some may return to you years later through a different person, in a different form. And some will not return at all. Yet the act of planting changes the gardener. You learn patience. You learn restraint. You learn faith. Giving love refines the giver. The Gita reminds us that growth is internal before it becomes visible. Transformation begins beneath the surface of the self.

Most people chase love as an outcome.

“I will be kind if they are kind.”

“I will give if they appreciate it.”

“I will stay soft if the world stays gentle.”

But life does not negotiate like that. The world is uneven. People are inconsistent. Circumstances are unpredictable. If your love depends on outcome, your peace will always be unstable. The stronger position is this: love as identity.

“I am someone who chooses patience.”

“I am someone who chooses generosity.”

“I am someone who does not let bitterness define me.”

This does not mean tolerating disrespect. It does not mean accepting harm. It does not mean staying where you are diminished. The Gita never asks us to be passive. It asks us to act with clarity, without hatred, without ego. Even when you walk away, you walk away with dignity instead of revenge. Even when you protect yourself, you protect yourself without poisoning your heart. Love as identity means your values are not controlled by other people’s behavior. That is strength.

There is deep freedom in understanding that we are the love we give. When you stop measuring what comes back, you stop living anxiously. When you stop auditing affection, you stop shrinking your heart. When you stop tying your worth to someone else's response, you become steady. The world may not always reward your softness. It may not always honor your effort. It may not always mirror your depth. But every time you choose to give with integrity, you shape your own being. And that is the only part you truly own. Love received decorates life. Love given defines it.

So the real question is not, “Who loves me enough?”

It is, “Who am I becoming through the way I love?”