If receiving gifts isn’t your love language, holiday season can get a little awkward

Anyone who has ever been in a relationship, or pursued one, would be familiar with the five love languages: Quality time, physical touch, words of affirmation, acts of service, and receiving gifts.

Coined by American author Gary Chapman, the concept has become the bastion of true love – a test more consequential to a relationship’s future than meeting one’s future in-laws.

Or it’s practically grounds for divorce; proof that your partner never cared to understand you, because how dare they constantly shower you with gifts when you yearn for words of affirmation instead!

Chapman argued that while each love language is enjoyed to some degree by all people, a person usually speaks one primary language.

I’ve also observed, through unfortunately presumptuous gestures over the years, that a person usually shuns one primary language too.

This article is about everyone like me whose primary language is not receiving gifts – and for everyone who wants to understand such loved ones whose peculiar preferences may have caused some unforeseen stress. 

In my case, this love language doesn’t only rank last, but also has a zero score. 

WHY DO SOME PEOPLE DISLIKE RECEIVING GIFTS?

To be clear, I’m happy to give if receiving gifts is the other party’s love language, unlike my colleague who has boldly decided to stop giving presents entirely. I would simply prefer it to remain a one-way transaction. 

Armchair psychologists have diagnosed several reasons why people like me don’t like receiving presents: We don’t want to pretend to like a gift when it reveals that the other party doesn’t know us well after all. We don’t want to feel indebted to the gift-giver. We feel undeserving of such love and care.  

Or, quite simply, because we don't want gifts we didn't ask for – a concept many over-enthusiastic gift-givers seem to have difficulty grasping. Occasionally, even when they know our preference, they assume we are simply being polite by refusing gifts.

My biggest gripe is the hassle of figuring out what to do with unexpected gifts and managing the giver's feelings, even as I realise any relationship requires balancing between one's primary language of receiving love and another's primary language of showing love.

It just gets trickier when this dislike for receiving gifts overlaps with my professional life.

DEALING WITH PROFESSIONAL GIFTING 

My least favourite thing about working during the holiday season is the culture of gifting from PR and communications practitioners. And the festive mood only seems to supercharge this industry norm.

Come December, there is usually a spike in unprompted deliveries, unnecessary wastage and my uncomfortable feelings. 

Among the standard seasonal paraphernalia? Yet another tote bag, notebook and pen, candle, and an assortment of sweet treats – all of which I neither need nor want, but now have the burden of dealing with. 

Still, I recognise the symbolism behind this annual gesture. So, in the spirit of sticking to tradition, for those with similar industry practices, consider checking if recipients would like to receive a gift before sending one instead. After all, holiday season or not, no one likes to feel imposed upon.

Your recipient would probably decline if they're anything like me, but asking is the most effective way to ensure they notice the thought that counts.

GIVING TO PEOPLE WHO DON’T LIKE RECEIVING GIFTS

That said, not all gifts are made equal. So if you must give, do so with intention.

Many of us who dislike receiving gifts respect the nuances of gifting in different cultures. We essentially dislike the Westernised social construct of gifting, not all gifts.

I, for one, dislike receiving generic gifts that make up 99 per cent of presents – the holiday season equivalent of a fridge magnet travel souvenir. Contrary to what we’d like to believe about our ability to know what other people want, many of us are mediocre gift-givers. 

I love a highly specific gift. A friend once surprised me with a S$2 gachapon capsule that resembled a mini claw machine to hold daily supplements, after we spoke about how gamifying everyday tasks creates a sense of novelty for me to stick to a routine.

It’s not the most practical or convenient gift. Neither have I used it religiously. But it was thoughtful, and more important, unique to our conversation and friendship.

I’m not opposed to receiving an intangible gift either. With my primary love language being quality time, sharing a meal together (even if we go Dutch) or accompanying me while I run errands would be the ideal gift. 

I've found this to be possible professionally too, having once turned a standard coffee catch-up with a PR contact into a two-hour walk along the Singapore River. 

And while I wouldn't explicitly ask for a gift, I wouldn’t turn down practical presents, though I’m impartial to “acts of service” any other time of the year. Say, generously offering to pay off any of my annual subscriptions, or sending the non-paywalled link to an article that reminds you of me. 

Failing which, cold hard cash is a perennially good idea. It’s not just money you’re giving, but the freedom for the recipient to spend it however they wish.

These suggestions, however, may not fly with diehard gift-givers. For some, the process of looking for a gift is part of the gift. They feel good if recipients know they have put in thought in procuring the present. (And there is seemingly scant thought in giving someone money, or worse, sending them the sum via PayNow, as though they were a checkbox on one's to-do list.) 

So perhaps people like me should learn to graciously accept any present.

But not having to do so would, hands down, be the better gift. Now that's a thought that counts.