In Buddhism, we rarely hear monks and nuns teaching lay people how to love. Perhaps that is as it should be.

This is not because romance or love is considered shameful or evil in lay life. Rather, it is because monastics are training in renunciation, and directing their attention toward romantic love would not support the practice of letting go. If romantic fulfillment were the goal, Siddhattha could simply have remained in the palace.

Yet not every Buddhist aspires to become a monastic. From ancient times until today, lay Buddhists have far outnumbered monks and nuns. As a result, there is a quiet gap—a sense that while Buddhism speaks deeply about suffering, impermanence, and liberation, it says much less about how lay people might love wisely and well.

It is not that such teachings do not exist. Rather, they are rarely led or highlighted. To explore this space, let us reflect on the love of Yashodharā.

Why Yashodharā?

Yashodharā is a compelling model because the Buddha himself praised her. To understand her love, however, we must first understand her context—her personality, her position, and the world she lived in.

Yashodharā was a beautiful princess with many suitors. Prince Siddhattha had to win a competition among numerous rivals before receiving her parents’ blessing to marry her. She was not a passive figure. Traditional accounts describe her as confident, witty, and spirited—someone who could tease Siddhattha playfully, even causing him to momentarily lose his composure during a palace gathering.

She was highly sought after not only for personal reasons, but also for political ones.

The Sakyan republic functioned as a kind of oligarchic or quasi-democratic system, where leadership was awarded to the most capable prince rather than automatically inherited. Many princes competed for influence and recognition. Siddhattha’s marriage to Yashodharā also strengthened alliances with a neighboring kingdom. Her hand in marriage therefore carried political weight.

The Cost of Renunciation—for Those Left Behind

Now imagine Yashodharā’s position when Siddhattha chose to renounce the world.

Out of many princes, she chose Siddhattha—one who was already rumored to be “unworldly” or “unsuitable” for rulership. Through marriage, she helped secure his position as crown prince. And then, shortly after the birth of their son Rāhula, Siddhattha left everything behind.

In the ancient world, this would not have been received gently.

Her father would likely have been furious—not only at Siddhattha, but at the loss of a valuable political alliance. Court gossip would have been merciless. Fingers may have pointed at Yashodharā: She failed to keep him content. She drove him away. After all, King Suddhodana had believed that marriage and pleasure would cure Siddhattha of his spiritual unrest.

Here, Yashodharā stood in an impossible position—blamed by both sides.

Love Without Bitterness

And yet, when the Buddha returned to Kapilavatthu, it was Yashodharā who sang verses of praise—verses filled not with resentment, but with admiration and love.

This is why her love matters.

When we speak of Yashodharā’s love, we are not talking about divine or transcendent love, but worldly love, the kind lived by lay people. It closely resembles the love described in the Sama-jīvīna Sutta—a love grounded in shared values, mutual respect, patience, and ethical living.

Her love was not possessive. It was not conditional. It did not demand that Siddhattha remain who she wanted him to be.

Most strikingly, her love allowed her partner to pursue his deepest calling—even when it meant losing him as a husband and raising their child alone.

There is no record of bitterness in her heart. No attempt to poison Rāhula’s view of his father. She did not say, “Look—this is the man who abandoned us.” Instead, she helped her son see who his father had become.

In this way, Yashodharā practiced her own form of letting go.

She let go of Siddhattha as her husband and embraced Siddhattha as a renunciant and a Buddha. Her respect did not turn into resentment. Her love did not curdle into blame.

This is why her love remains one of the most powerful, yet understated, teachings for lay Buddhists. May we learn to love and may all be well and happy.

REFLECTIONS

Points for reflections or group discussion.

Love and Renunciation

• Why do you think Buddhist teachings speak less directly about romantic love?
• How can lay people practice love without contradicting the principle of letting go?

Letting Go Without Becoming Cold

• How is Yashodharā’s letting go different from emotional detachment or indifference?
• Can we let go while still caring deeply?

May all be well and happy.