For a long time last year, I was existentially uncomfortable being single again. I dreaded solitary evenings. Even just watching TV at home by myself felt depressing. After ten months of meeting new people and going on dates (many of which I really enjoyed), I’ve come to a place where I’m genuinely content being single. I don’t need another person to fill a void in my life, to “complete” me, as they say. Once you experience your own capacity to create meaning and joy, it becomes really hard to go back to a place where your happiness depended on someone else. For me, the north star is to be able to take myself out on dates to museums and restaurants and be just as happy as when I’m with another person. And even if I were to get into a relationship, I’d want to preserve this feeling of calm happiness in being with and by myself.
I started writing this Substack to figure out other people, to understand what makes them do what they do in relationships because I find humans infinitely mystifying, and despite reading a ton of novels, I know very little about how people work. I know how story works, but while art may imitate life, understanding story does not translate into understanding life. When reading a story, I’m an observer watching events unfold and having a sense of what could happen based on what has already happened. In life, we are the main characters of our stories. Things are happening to us, bombarding our psychosomatic systems left and right. We don’t get the benefit of seeing what’s happening outside ourselves or seeing ourselves from a third-person POV as we do when reading a novel.
My first two posts of the year were about my relationship to myself rather than to other people. I’m beginning to realize that to understand other people, I need to understand myself because how I relate to myself (and my parts) plays a huge role in how I interact with other people. As an example: I can be very hard on myself. I take things seriously. It’s good for self-discipline and accomplishing things, but it’s terrible for relationships. I used to apply the same standards I had for myself to the people closest to me. I would criticize my partner for watching TV for eight hours instead of doing something productive because I would’ve judged myself for the same behavior. But my way of living life isn’t the only or best way to live. And it’s sad that we’re often harshest to the people we most care about.
In our closest relationships, we sometimes unconsciously blur the line between us and the other person. We feel safe being our full self with the people we love, so we let our guards down. We reveal our very worst to them in addition to our very best and sometimes end up treating them worst than we would a stranger. Maybe the real tragedy is that your very worst behavior toward the people you love is a reflection of your worst behavior to yourself. Maybe you haven’t made peace with something within you. If your worst is losing your temper and saying mean things that you’ll regret later, you’re probably holding a lot of anger toward yourself as well. Maybe the anger is actually trying to protect you from some pain or knowledge you don’t want to face.
There’s a reason why the general advice for someone going through a breakup is to “focus on yourself.” Part of it is self-care. I remember reading somewhere that a breakup causes the equivalent pain of someone chopping your leg off. It’s psychological violence. So self-care is essential. But there’s another reason focusing on yourself is so important. In the vast majority of cases, both people are responsible for the relationship ending, even if it’s just one person that wants to call quits. I believe your contribution to the relationship ending (and mine and everyone’s) stems from an unhealthy relationship to yourself. It could be that you’re not setting proper boundaries to protect your own needs or there’s a part of you that you haven’t healed, and it’s causing you to act out in detrimental ways or run away from your fears. It’s only in healing your relationship to yourself that you can begin to have healthier relationships with other people.
Honestly, super insightful. Projecting our bad qualities onto our partner is so detrimental. But we can't really help it, can we? Especially as "young" adults learning and growing in a way that is so different from our predecessors. Previous generations didn't put any merit in self-discovery and healing, because certain roles in a relationship were strictly defined. As we begin to break those walls down, we need to redefine our actions and roles with our significant others. And it's really daunting because it's such unmarked territory.
I know it scares the hell out of me, because who's to say on our road to recovery that we aren't burning bridges that were meant to stand? As we begin to "heal ourselves," are we actively pushing older relationships away that no longer fit within our new definition of self?
Keep it up, Elaine!