In the previous article, we saw something profoundly beautiful: men and women are not called to compete, but to come together. Difference is not a war, but an opportunity for communion that arises from experiencing complementarity. But the questions remain: If we are made to love, why does love hurt?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
These days, it\u2019s very common to hear how an experience that seemed like love ultimately leaves you feeling empty, or how, after a glance that wasn\u2019t entirely innocent, something hard to describe emerges: guilt. Unease. Shame. As if something inside were saying: \u201cThis is good, but it\u2019s not what it should be.\u201d.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Genesis does not shy away from this experience. It explains it. It takes us back to the moment when everything falls apart: original sin. Because every sin breaks a relationship. And here, the most important one is broken: the relationship with God. <\/p>\n\n\n\n The problem begins when a different voice appears: the serpent plants a seed of doubt in the man's heart: \u201cNo, you will not die; it is just that God knows that on the day you eat from it, your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God in knowing good and evil.\u201d<\/em> (Gen 3:4\u20135). Therein lies the temptation. It is not merely a matter of disobeying a rule. It is beginning to view God with suspicion. Then, something decisive happens: man ceases to see everything as coming from God and wants to take possession of it. He no longer wants to live as a creature; he wants to \u201cbe like God.\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In that seemingly small gesture, a profound rupture occurs. Man separates himself from the source that sustained his life. For his relationship with God was what held his entire being together. When that relationship is severed, man is left, so to speak, alone to face the weight of his own life. This is evident in the story: \u201cI heard you making noise in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked, so I hid.\u201d <\/em>(Gen. 3:10)<\/p>\n\n\n\n The same God who was once a loving presence is now perceived as a threat. Everything changes. Because once we no longer trust God, everything begins to feel uncertain. We no longer fully trust even ourselves, because we no longer know who we really are. Nor do we fully trust others, because fear becomes part of our relationships.<\/p>\n\n\n\n That's when the shame sets in. \u201cTheir eyes were opened\u2026 and they realized they were naked\u201d <\/em>(Gen 3:7). The body did not change. What changed was the way of looking at it. Before, nakedness was a guarantee of a pure gaze between them. As St. John Paul II explained, man and woman lived in a state of original nakedness: the body revealed the person as a gift to the other in love. But when the relationship with God was broken, that gaze was lost. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Now, the other person is no longer perceived merely as someone to love, but also as someone from whom to protect oneself. That is why the need to shield oneself arises. In this sense, shame is not the problem. It is a sign. It reminds us that a person is worth more than an object. But it also reveals the wound: we want to love, but the rupture leads us to want to possess. We want to give ourselves fully, but we are afraid.<\/p>\n\n\n\n So we return to the original question. Does love hurt? The truth is, no. Love, in and of itself, is always good.<\/p>\n\n\n\n What hurts is trying to live apart from God. As mentioned earlier, original sin was not merely a matter of disobeying a rule. It was severing love from its source.<\/p>\n\n\n\n To live love well means recognizing that it has a purpose. We don't invent it\u2014we receive it. And when we live without that reference point, even with good intentions, our hearts lose their way.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But here is where hope lies. The human heart is wounded, but it is not doomed. When we let God into our lives, something begins to change. And here is a very revealing truth: it is the Holy Spirit who truly unites people. It is He who makes it possible for love to be not just an emotion, but a bond. That is why tradition calls Him vinculum caritatis<\/em>: the bond of love. When two people love one another according to God\u2019s plan, when they seek the good of the other, God Himself enters into that relationship and sustains it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Then love ceases to rely solely on its own strength, on those ever-changing emotions, and begins to lean on Someone greater. On that firm rock that the human heart seeks\u2014often without realizing it\u2014so that its loves will not crumble.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Shame is not the end. It is the beginning. Because right there\u2014where the wound appears\u2014the story of redemption begins.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Christ does not come to eliminate the body that is now in a state of decline. He comes to heal the heart. As St. John Paul II taught, this is a true redemption of the heart\u2014a transformation of it. <\/p>\n\n\n\n But for that to happen, it\u2019s important that all of this lead us to concrete conclusions. If you\u2019re in a relationship: Have you talked to God about it? Does the way you express your love allow God to dwell there? Do you help each other love better? And something similar happens in friendships: Do your friends bring you closer to God, and do you bring them closer to Him? Do they help you grow? All of this will help God dwell in our relationships. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Reflecting on these truths will also help us see the experience of shame not only as a reminder that something was broken, but also that something remains valuable\u2014that true love is still possible. As St. John Paul II taught: authentic love never consists in using the other person, but in giving oneself to them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Therefore, true love does not arise from mistrust or fear. It arises\u2014as John Paul II insists\u2014from the gift of God. And when God is able to dwell within a relationship, love gradually ceases to be a burden or a source of pain\u2026 and begins to resemble what it was created to be: a place where the human heart can rest and find happiness. <\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" En el art\u00edculo anterior vimos algo profundamente bello: el hombre y la mujer no est\u00e1n llamados a competir, sino a encontrarse. La diferencia no es una guerra, sino una posibilidad de comuni\u00f3n fruto de la vivencia de la complementariedad. Pero las preguntas contin\u00faan: Si estamos hechos para amar, \u00bfpor qu\u00e9 el amor duele? Hoy es […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3288,"featured_media":61881,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":"","_members_access_role":[],"_members_access_error":""},"categories":[549,548],"tags":[661,1282],"class_list":["post-61878","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-evangelizacion","category-foco","tag-amor","tag-teologia-del-cuerpo"],"yoast_head":"\nA Wound at the Source<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n
The Birth of Shame<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n
When love hurts\u2026 what\u2019s going on?<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n
When God Enters into Love<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n
Learning to Love Again<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n