Respect Before Love
Most people pretend the choice is binary: better to be loved or better to be feared. The mobsters in A Bronx Tale framed it that way. Love fades, fear holds, so fear wins. But that’s a false frame. The real order isn’t fear versus love. It’s respect before love.
Love without respect is counterfeit. It feels sweet, but it’s hollow. It asks for intimacy without the backbone that makes intimacy safe. It wants closeness while ignoring the ground rules that make closeness matter. That’s not love, it’s dependency dressed up as affection.
Respect is the entry ticket. Without it, every “I love you” lands like an insult. Because if you don’t respect me, what do you even love? An illusion? A role I play for your convenience? Respect is the acknowledgment of weight. It says: I see you, I take you seriously, I can’t brush you aside. Only after that recognition can love carry any meaning.
Fear has longevity, sure. It sticks because it burns. But fear never builds. Respect does. And once respect is real, love has something to stand on. Without it, love collapses into sentiment, or worse—manipulation.
So I don’t chase love first. I don’t trade respect for the comfort of being liked. I don’t confuse warmth for worth. For me, love is earned on the foundation of respect. Skip that step and you lose both.
I’ve spent time in 28 countries in more cities and rural areas than I can count.
Amsterdam is where I felt respected the most—especially by my late mentor, Bela Stamenkovits, my creative director there. Madison is where I found the least—for me, and from me in return. I’m relieved, and honestly surprised, that I can finally articulate what I’ve been trying to put into words since 2019.
Ray