The Time of Giving

This time of year, more than most, revolves around the idea of giving and receiving.

Giving isn’t just about tangible things, but feelings, words, attention, and presence. Compliments. Listening. Showing up. Asking for help. Being open to receiving it.

The other week, while on the treadmill and thinking about a small yet meaningful gift for someone important to me, I noticed how my heart raced. How excited it made me feel. How I wanted to fast-forward to the moment of seeing them receive it.

That rush of feeling sent my overthinking mind to the word giving and my relationship with it. Why did it make me so happy?

I have always loved giving. Giving without hesitation. Paying attention to details. Remembering what matters to the people I love. Hearing what they say, even in passing, and holding onto it to turn it into something meaningful.

And this has never been limited to objects. Giving can be an experience. A moment. A sentence someone has been longing to hear. Words like “I’m proud of you” or “I’m here for you” said with intention, at the right time, when they’re true and meant to be felt.

While I’ve always felt confident in my ability to give, I also spent a long time questioning it. Sometimes because of my own thoughts, sometimes because of what I experienced, and sometimes because I felt I was always the one doing more.

In many of my personal experiences, especially in relationships, the other person’s giving was often tied to performance, leverage, or control. It was used to secure a place, avoid emotional presence, or hold power rather than simply to bring a smile.

Being around that can make you doubt yourself.

It made me wonder whether my love for giving meant I was trying to win love, prove my worth, or keep someone close.

So I pulled it apart. I analysed it. I reflected on my intentions.

And I realised something important.

There is a difference between giving to be loved and giving because you love.

Some people give to feel in control.

Some give to feel important.

Some give to compensate for what they struggle to offer emotionally.

But some of us give because we listen.

Because we notice.

Because we remember.

For me, giving has never been about money. It has always been about moments and the meaning. About wanting to offer someone something they might not have had, experienced, or expected, even in the smallest way.

The joy has never been in the thing itself.

It’s in the moment someone feels seen.

When they realise someone paid attention.

At some point, I also had to make peace with another truth.

Enjoying thoughtful gestures doesn’t mean I give in order to receive them.

It simply means I value intention, care, and effort.

But at the same time, wanting to be met in the same way doesn’t make my giving conditional or love transactional.

It means I value reciprocity, even if it shows up differently for different people.

I can love giving freely and still want to feel seen, remembered, and considered too.

For a long time, I placed my needs behind most, telling myself it was fine, that I didn’t need much, that I could always do it myself. But part of understanding my relationship with giving was allowing myself to admit something simple.

I want to receive too.

Not constantly. Not excessively. Not as an expectation.

But in those rare, thoughtful moments that matter.

Whether it’s giving or receiving, the point has always been the same.

A smile. A moment of connection.

The feeling that something small means something real and valuable.

Loving to give does not mean giving to be loved.

And giving thoughtfully does not mean giving too much or being too much.

It means giving freely.

It comes from presence. From listening.

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From wanting to add something meaningful to someone’s life. And that kind of giving isn’t about power.