The Inescapable Calculus of Intimate Relationships
(First in a Series)
Why be in intimate relationships?
They start off great. The sex is good. The conversations are lively. Neither person can seem to do much wrong in the eyes of the other.
But then the endorphins wear off. We settle into more mundane routines. Our partners begin to irritate us in subtle and not so subtle ways. Worse, they start to trigger us. We have blow ups that far exceed anything that could possibly happen in other relationships. We’re sometimes shocked by how angry, scared, shut down, or just plain crazy we get with our partner. We start to ruminate about what is wrong with the other person–fantasize about how, if they would only change those few things, we could be blissfully happy together. But they don’t change. In fact, they seem to only want us to change. Endless, grueling arguments ensue, which seem to go nowhere. All culminating in–
Breakup. Lick your wounds. Come out of the post-traumatic-relationship shell and start putting yourself out there. Start all over again.
What’s the point of all this anyway? If the only good stuff is those first few hormonally-driven months, why not just serially fall in love and then get when the getting’s good? Move on to the next good thing?
Almost entirely without thought, as if it is something to be taken for granted (despite the sheer vastness of contrary evidence), people will often answer that question with some version of the following:
Because sharing your life with someone makes life better. Being in a great intimate relationship will make me happy (the “happily ever after” narrative)
I’ve got one word for this one. Wrong. No, two words. Dead wrong.
Being in an intimate relationship will not make you happy. In fact, if you’re like many people, it will make you at least as unhappy as it makes you happy. In fact, it will slowly drive you so crazy, you will be looking for an exit. You will be joining the 50% of people who end their marriages, for example, through divorce.
There are exceptions, of a sort. Sometimes people show up together who are pretty content to just be as they are. They don’t want to ask any growth of their partner, and they would really prefer not to be imposed on in that way either, thank you very much. While a part of me wants to throw up on those people, another, perhaps better, part of me respects them. You go, couple who have somehow avoided the nearly unstoppable growth demands the world seems to joyfully foist upon the rest of us, entirely without our consent or invitation, other than the one we gave when we had no idea what we were getting ourselves into! You go!
But for the rest of us, think about it: Couldn't life arguably be much better on one’s own? Engaging fully in pursuit of our own life, liberty and happiness, without all the trouble an intimate relationship brings? Which brings us to our second justification for engaging in this insanity:
Because I don’t like being alone
Fair enough. But refer back to the previous section. If being with someone ends up being at least as taxing as being alone, wouldn’t it be more courageous, honest, and self-actualized to be a rugged individual? Once again, on your own, you don’t have to account for all those pesky needs of another person–your full focus can be on satisfying good old number one.
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So you may be thinking: is this guy just really bitter and cynical about intimate relationships? Is this an article about why being on your own is simply better?
The answer to those questions is unequivocally no. I believe strongly in intimate relationships. But my reasons for believing are not any of the ones I’ve mentioned so far. There’s a much better reason to be in intimate relationships than any of those:
Growth. There is nothing, and I do mean nothing, that can give you the opportunity to grow like engaging in intimate relationships. But only if you do it in the right way.
Okay, so I heard the collective groans go up as I wrote those last sentences. “Oh great,” you say. “Another personal growth lecture. Growth sounds like a painful, trudging process, all in service of becoming a “BETTER PERSON.” No thank you. I like myself the way I am.”
Well hear me out for a minute. When I say “growth”, I’m not talking about some amorphous goal of becoming a “better person”, whom others will judge as being “better” than the schlep their girlfriend just broke up with. By growth, I mean something very selfishly desirable.
By “growth” I mean: someone who suffers less. Someone who, when they do suffer, is able to use that opportunity to change in ways that makes it less likely that he will suffer again in the same way. Someone who is free to engage in life in a satisfying way. Someone who isn’t constantly finding herself in dramatic breakdowns that require cocktails with friends and the comitant hangovers to get through. And then start again.
And yes, as a collateral benefit, someone who causes less wreckage to others. Someone who, in fact, has good, nurturing relationships with others. Someone who can be counted on by others to be helpful in some meaningful way.
If any of this sounds good to you, read on.
The “happily ever after” narrative of relationships is certainly ubiquitous: I will find my perfect partner; we will fall in love; and we will live happily ever after. The persistence of this narrative in our psyches plays out in virtually every wedding ceremony you’ll ever experience. Even though we all know that roughly 50% of marriages end in divorce, almost all of us go in with the powerful belief that this will not be our fate. The coin will come up heads for us. Tails is for those other unlucky souls. We’re going to live happily ever after.
If the beliefs were otherwise, my prenuptial agreement practice would be much more robust.
Here’s the bad news though: the calculus of relationships doesn't support that narrative. In fact, it works directly against it. It makes it nearly impossible, in fact. Unless you are willing to face it.
What is the inescapable calculus of relationship you ask? In my experience, it is as consistent and reliable as a mathematical formula. Show me any relationship, allow me to ask the couple a few questions, and I guarantee you I will be able to demonstrate how it is at work.
What is it? It is simply this:
You will be attracted to, and you will attract, an intimate partner whose unresolved issues and characteristics will perfectly interlock with yours, in such a way that you will be confronted with those issues in an unmistakable and unavoidable way.
Wow. Romantic, right? But stay with me on this. There’s a payoff, I promise you.
First, to illustrate how this works, I’ll give you an example that is very personal. Me and my current wife.
I arrived at my first meeting with my wife with a slew of unresolved childhood trauma. Furthermore, I was largely unaware of how that unresolved trauma was playing out in my life and relationships. I saw myself as very self-aware, a personal growth athlete, ruggedly independent. In fact, while I was those things in some senses, I was, simultaneously and unbeknownst to me, relating to life as a victim: of my past, of my circumstances, of how other people behaved, and of my own emotional life. I was looking for someone whose love could save me from my own dark past.
My wife showed up with the perfect plug in. She grew up in a household where her innate gifts, her entire self, was largely unseen and unappreciated. She was aching to be a loving savior to a man such as me. To have her brilliant coaching, as well as her beautiful heart, save a deserving man from a dark fate.
Did either of us see this pattern? Absolutely not. What I saw was a beautiful, kind, sexy, wise woman, whose love and wisdom could heal my wounds. She saw a handsome (if I do say so), deep, strong and thoughtful man, whose dark past could be healed with just the right coaching and care.
How did this turn out for us? Well, for a while, it worked swimmingly. Until it didn’t. More on this later.
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There are infinite variations on how the plug-ins can work. Often they work in service of The Justice Narrative: setting right what went so very wrong in childhood. So, for example, the one who was abandoned in childhood will be attracted to an abandoner. Or, the one whose voice was suppressed will find someone who seems to want to hear them.
Concrete examples help. Again, from my own marriage: I was abandoned in my childhood. I didn’t receive care or acknowledgement from the adults who remained. I was looking (largely unconsciously) for a partner who would both demonstrate loyalty, and who would threaten me with abandonment. Someone who would both appear to be enthralled by what I had to say, and who would disregard me. My wife ended up fitting all of these bills.
My wife’s father (unwittingly) communicated to her that she was loveable because she was attractive. She was looking for a man who would both be enthralled by her attractiveness, and who would respect her for her other qualities. She also went largely unseen and unnoticed in her boisterous family. She wanted a man who would need her wisdom and love to be okay. But who would also be arrogant and dismissive of her. I fit all of these bills for her.
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Mind you, the calculus of intimate relationships is almost never immediately apparent. What shows up at first is simple, raw attraction; sexual chemistry; interest. This person has the qualities I’ve always been looking for in a partner. Sure, they probably have shortcomings, but look at how colossally those are outweighed by their positives!
The calculus shifts in how it asserts itself once those attraction hormones wear off. Those hormones have often already done their job by that time, by the way. You’ve sprung a few offspring together. The genes have satisfied their quest to procreate. Time to start getting on one another’s nerves. Time to start triggering one another to no end. Time to start endless bickering that seems to go nowhere.
Believe it or not, this is actually the moment when the real benefits of relationships (beyond those beautiful children) start to appear. Unfortunately, it’s also the time when many couples run screaming for the exits. All those positives were an optical illusion! This person I married is actually completely insane! And worse, stubborn as hell! I got baited and switched! Get me out of this raw deal!
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At this point, you have three options:
Eject. Get out of this poisonous relationship. Head off to greener pastures.
Give in to fear. Admit that relationships aren’t all they are cracked up to be. But divorce is hard and expensive, and my profile pic won’t look nearly as good on Tinder at this point. This relationship blows, but I’m afraid to be alone. Grin and bear it.
Grow. Claim the unique, priceless benefit this relationship is trying to hand you. Allow your suffering to be the crucible that will forge a more grown up, grounded, effective, and loving version of you.
Wow. OK. Once again, would I have signed up for these options had I known this was what I was signing up for when I got into this mess? Nope. But that is just more of the brilliant design. Life is setting us up for growth, whether we like it or not. Through the inescapable calculus of intimate relationships.
So which option to take?
I would never recommend the second option, although many choose it. Fear is a hard thing to face. It’s easier, in a way, to abandon hope for something more fulfilling, and just get on with the business of keeping each other miserable. But miserable together.
There are sometimes good reasons to take the first option. I talk about those in this article [LINK]. Outside of those circumstances (and even within them), this first option turns out to be the ultimate bait and switch, though. Because guess what: when you leave the relationship, you take you with you. And I hate to say it (but I will): until you actually work through the stuff this last relationship was screaming at you to face? You will keep playing out some version of it in all of your subsequent relationships.
Which brings us to option number (3). The one we all want to run screaming from. Growth feels so…hard. And what’s the point of it anyway? Just so someone can point at me and say, “wow, he’s really cool.” What do I need with that?
Well, as I mentioned earlier, the point of growth isn’t to meet some outside standard of what it means to be a “good” person. It is about getting free. Growing up actually ends up saving you a lot of avoidable suffering. And it reduces the suffering you are unwittingly and haphazardly investing into the world. It makes your life better, and it makes you more capable of helping other lives to be better.
Sound good? In my next article, I talk about the one pivot that can, truly and profoundly, actually change everything.The one we are all being pulled to make.
Peter Fabish is Co-Founder of Conscious Family™ Law & Mediation.
