The Blowfish Blog

Couple’s Couch: When To Settle

I had a pumpkin-carving party a few weeks ago to inspire some holiday spirit and get rid of leftovers that were close to spoiling in the fridge. After the knives had been put away and the seeds were roasted to a blackened crisp, the conversation around the soggy newspaper turned to finding Mr. or Ms. Right. There seemed to be an usually high amount of suspicion and doubt that the perfect other half was “out there” somewhere waiting to be discovered while doing laundry at midnight in the rain or some other clichéd activity.

After three glasses of wine, one person revealed to the group that they had been dating so-and-so for X-amount of time and they were beginning to think that they should get married or just break-up. Heads around the table bobbed up and down in acknowledgement to this statement as if it made all the sense in the world.

It is here in the story that I would like to take pause and bring some intentionality to this concept. Break-up or get married? How can these two decisions apply to the same relationship? Shouldn’t it be more like, “We love one another so much that we are either going to get married or we’re going to keep dating for a few years just to make sure that we can maintain this level of bliss and understanding long enough to prove to ourselves and our families/loved ones that we are really serious about this idea of togetherness”? How did breaking-up wiggle in there?

Seems that relationships these days do not (or perhaps never did) follow the “rules” of storybook development. We aren’t, for the most part, getting married right out of school these days and having 2.5 kids and a dog before we turn 30. Instead, we’re sleeping around with scads of partners, sampling the merchandise before we buy. We live with our partners well before we place rings on our fingers, we invite thirds into our beds, we pick up random dates in sleazy bars, and we scour local laundromats nightly for someone who might be a better fit than the person with whom we have set up our nice and tidy lives. We have one finger on the person we love and the rest of our fingers scanning the horizon to see if there is someone out there who matches us a little bit better.

Because of this we are able to say things along the lines of “break-up or get hitched.” I take this to mean, “We really do love one another but we have our differences and need to decide if this is as good as it is going to get, or if we should cut our losses and try for something better down the road.” Fish or cut bait. Shit or get off the pot. Commit or get out of my way. There might be someone better for me starting their rinse cycle right now and I don’t have a moment to lose.

But how would I even recognize if someone were better for me or not?

I’ve come to use a kindergarten star-chart image as a representation for how my needs get met in relationships. Ever seen one of these? They are made from two, stacked circles of colorful paper. One, the bottom one, is a full circle decorated with a universe full of constellations and planets and other heavenly wonders. The other circle, the top circle, has a window cut out of it so 1/3 of the pie is missing. These circles are connected via a metal brad in the middle so the top circle can spin, revealing only a portion of the night sky at a time through the window.

I am the bottom circle. My needs are the myriad of wonders depicted in the evening sky. My partner is the top circle. This person fulfills the vast majority of my needs, “covering them” with their love, their bodies, our activities, and deeper, spiritual connections. But then there is that damned window.

The window represents all that my partner is unable to meet. Sure, it’s totally unfair to blame them entirely for this deficit, but too bad; this is MY analogy. The window exists no matter the season, no matter the commitment, no matter the person. Sometimes the window moves to illuminate parts that were previously covered, and I experience that movement as loss. Sometimes the solid circle moves to cover parts previously vacant and I feel wonderfully rich and fulfilled. Some partners cover the top half expertly, leaving the bottom half vacant. Others do the opposite.

I use this analogy because it applies to just about every relationship I hear about. No matter how green your pasture, the other meadow looks mighty inviting because it appears to cover one of the lacking constellations on your chart.

When I was a teenager, my Mom used to tell me to evaluate my relationships using a two-column graph. “On one side,” she would say, “make a list of the things you love them Because Of and on the other, list the things you love them In Spite Of.” This helped, to a point. It was the fledgling realizations of my star-chart, the first time I viewed my relationship as something tangible that I could work on.

I would sit down and industriously fill in my two columns. “I love them because they make me laugh.” “I love them in spite of the fact that they look at other girl’s asses in front of me.” When I think back, it was always far easier to make my In Spite Of list. Even now, finding the fault is easier than seeing the good in relationships.

So what can be done? If I had the answer, I would have thrown out my lists and charts years ago. I feel that we need to start by looking at our partners and focusing on the places we already fulfill one another seamlessly. It’s difficult to quantify the good that already exists against the promise of what might be. But why are you still in that relationship? Why did you begin it in the first place? Are you still growing as a couple?

Then, we all need to get more realistic with this notion of “partner.” Are you willing to consider 2/3 of perfect as good enough for you? Could you deal with that terrible nostril-noise and hating your mother-in-law for the knowledge that you get to fall asleep in the crook of their bony elbow every evening or the look in their eye when they catch you stepping out of the shower? What are you willing to accept as enough from a lover and what parts of you can simply cannot be compromised?

Along those lines, I feel we should consider how we are incomplete circles for our partner’s charts, too. If you knew what was left unattended in your partner’s life, would you make an effort to close that gap for them? What concessions could you make that would mean little to you that could make the world of difference for your lover or for your relationship.

It may very well be true that breaking up with your partner will open doors to finding someone who is a better fit. But before we toss in the towel, I would advocate for first understanding the places we are not satisfied in the relationship. Armed with self-knowledge, we can approach our relationships and ourselves, as something we can work on together. Perhaps even while doing the laundry at midnight.

— Rebekah Skoor, MA

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This entry was posted on Friday, 9 November 2007 at 12:00 am and is filed under Advice. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.