In real love you want the other person's good. In romantic love

Margaret Anderson, writer and thinker of sharp perception, once declared: “In real love you want the other person’s good. In romantic love you want the other person.” In this contrast she unveils one of the oldest truths of the heart—that there are forms of love, and they differ as fire differs from flame, as root differs from blossom. Romantic love is desire, a hunger to possess, a longing to hold another close regardless of cost. It burns brightly, dazzling the senses, but may fade when the vision is gone. Real love, however, is something greater: it is not the self seeking satisfaction, but the self seeking the good of the beloved, even when that good means sacrifice, even when it means letting go.

The origin of this distinction lies deep in human history. Ancient philosophers spoke of eros, the passion that longs to seize and hold, and agape, the love that gives without demand. Anderson speaks in this same lineage, reminding us that the highest form of love is not possession but devotion. When we only want the person, we seek to fill our emptiness. But when we want their good, we seek their flourishing, whether or not it benefits us. Real love, then, is an act of selflessness, a choice of the soul that outlives passion and survives distance, suffering, even death.

Consider the story of Ruth and Naomi, told in sacred scripture. Ruth could have pursued her own path, her own desires, her own security. Yet she clung to Naomi, her widowed mother-in-law, and declared, “Where you go, I will go; where you lodge, I will lodge.” This was not romantic desire—it was real love, the seeking of another’s good above her own. And in that selfless devotion, Ruth found blessing, purpose, and a love that reshaped history. Her story shines as a beacon of what Anderson meant: that the highest love is willing to give rather than to grasp.

History gives us another witness in Mahatma Gandhi, who, though not remembered chiefly as a romantic figure, embodied the essence of true love for his people. He desired not to possess them, not to control them, but to secure their freedom and their dignity. His life was poured out for their good, not his gain. His example teaches us that real love extends beyond lovers and spouses—it is the principle by which families are held together, by which nations are lifted, by which humanity itself is redeemed.

The deeper meaning of Anderson’s words is this: romantic love is often the beginning, but it is not the end. Desire awakens the heart, but devotion sanctifies it. To stop at romance is to remain a child in love, forever chasing the thrill of possession. To grow into real love is to mature into strength, where the measure of love is not what we receive but what we give. Romance may delight, but real love transforms.

The lesson for us, O seekers of wisdom, is to ask ourselves daily: do I seek to possess, or do I seek to bless? Do I love because I crave, or do I love because I care? The first path leads to jealousy, exhaustion, and fleeting joy. The second leads to trust, endurance, and peace that outlasts time. Real love requires courage, for it often demands sacrifice. But it is the only love that endures when beauty fades, when trials come, when distance separates.

Practical wisdom follows: begin with small acts. When tempted to demand, choose instead to give. When your beloved falters, seek their healing rather than your satisfaction. When your friend suffers, put aside your own gain for their relief. And even in the smallest gesture—an encouraging word, a patient silence, a generous hand—you move from the fleeting fire of romance into the steady flame of real love.

Thus Margaret Anderson’s words stand not as a denial of romance, but as a call to transcend it. “In real love you want the other person’s good. In romantic love you want the other person.” Remember this distinction, for it is the measure of true devotion. Desire may draw you together, but only selfless love will keep you whole. Live by this wisdom, and you will know a love that outlasts passion and shines like the eternal flame.