Would You Choose You?

Relationships Stripped Down

What is it really like to be your partner?

I have a question.

A pretty simple one.

Or maybe not.

Would you choose you?

If you were choosing a partner today and you walked through the door…

Would you pick you?

Knowing everything you know about yourself.

Not the version everybody else gets.

Not the version you intend to be.

Not even the version you’re absolutely convinced you are.

The version someone actually has to be in a relationship with.

Your patience.

Your temper.

Your moods.

Your expectations.

Your criticism.

Your stubbornness.

Your need to be right.

The way you enable.

The things you tolerate—and then resent them for.

The things you keep doing for someone that they probably should be doing for themselves.

The things you forgive.

The things you say you forgive but somehow find their way back into another argument six months later.

The way you act when you’re hurt.

The way you shut down.

The way you hold on.

The way you keep score.

That’s you, too.

You Know What They Need to Change

Oh, you know.

You know what they need to work on.

How they should communicate.

How they should respond.

How they should apologize.

How they should parent.

What they need to let go of.

What they need to stop doing.

And what they absolutely need to start doing.

You’ve analyzed them.

Critiqued them.

Corrected them.

Maybe somewhere along the way you’ve become their teacher, parent, therapist or psychoanalyst.

You’ve hoped.

Prayed.

Waited.

Explained.

And explained again.

If they would just change…

If they would just listen.

If they would just understand.

If they would just do this differently.

If they would just stop doing that.

If they would just finally get it.

You may have spent years trying to create a better partner.

And somewhere in all that fixing, being their partner can get lost.

Because you can be completely right about things they need to change…

and still be difficult to be with.

You can have valid complaints and still be critical.

You can be hurt and still be hurtful.

You can love someone and still make them feel like they’re never quite good enough.

You can be trying to help and actually be taking over.

You can say:

“I just want us to be better.”

while spending most of your time explaining how they need to get better.

You can rescue someone over and over…

and eventually resent them for needing to be rescued.

You can do things for them that they could probably do for themselves…

then become frustrated because they don’t do enough.

You can call it helping.

Supporting.

Loving.

Keeping the peace.

Being the responsible one.

Sometimes it is.

And sometimes it’s enabling.

Maybe you’re reading this thinking:

Absolutely. I’d choose me.

And maybe you’re right.

Maybe you’re giving.

Thoughtful.

Faithful.

Dependable.

Supportive.

Maybe you’re a wonderful parent.

Maybe you’re a Christian and genuinely try to follow God’s wishes for your relationship and your family.

You work hard.

You sacrifice.

You forgive.

You show up.

You take care of everyone.

You’re the one people can count on.

Maybe you’ve stayed through things other people would have walked away from.

Maybe you’ve given more than anyone realizes.

Maybe you’ve carried your family through some incredibly difficult times.

Maybe you’re sitting there thinking:

I’m a pretty damn good partner.

Okay.

CONGRATULATIONS. YOU MAY BE PERFECT.

Seriously.

Maybe we’ve finally found the perfect partner.

Forget couples counseling.

We may need to clone you.

Actually, we should probably package your secrets and sell them.

We could make millions.

But before I start looking into cloning rights…

keep reading.

Because being a good person doesn’t automatically make someone easy to be with.

Doing a lot doesn’t necessarily make someone easy to be with.

Sacrificing doesn’t.

Being right doesn’t.

And having the very best intentions doesn’t mean everything we do lands the way we intended.

“They Get the Best Version of Me.”

Maybe they do.

But there’s a difference between someone getting a lot FROM you and getting the best OF you.

Everyone else may get your patience.

Your smile.

Your manners.

Your humor.

Your understanding.

Your grace.

Then you come home.

Tired.

Irritated.

Short.

Distracted.

Critical.

Done.

And sometimes the person who matters most gets what’s left.

You can do an incredible amount for someone and still have some things about you that are difficult to live with.

Both can be true.

Then There Are the Hoops

I’ll be nicer when you…

I’ll be affectionate when you…

I’ll apologize when you…

I’ll forgive when you…

I’ll change when you change.

I’ll give you what you need when you start giving me what I need.

One more condition.

One more change.

One more apology.

One more thing they need to understand.

One more hoop.

Terms and conditions apply.

And after enough time, nobody even remembers where the finish line was supposed to be.

The Rules

Most of us have some.

Some are spoken.

Some aren’t.

They should know what you need.

They should know why you’re upset.

They should know what you meant.

They should know how you want them to respond.

They should know when to talk and when to leave you alone.

They should know what an acceptable apology sounds like.

And when those expectations aren’t met…

Resentment.

Coldness.

Silence.

Sarcasm.

Little digs.

Keeping score.

Dragging something old into something new.

Making sure they know you’re still upset.

We don’t necessarily call any of that punishment.

But sometimes that’s exactly how it feels on the other side.

Keeping Score

Who apologized last.

Who initiated sex last.

Who planned something last.

Who called first.

Who does more.

Who works harder.

Who sacrificed more.

Who has forgiven more.

Who has changed more.

Who hurt whom first.

Eventually a relationship can start looking like a very detailed accounting system.

I did this, so you should…

I won’t until you…

I changed, but you haven’t…

Why should I when you don’t…?

Tit for tat.

And two people can spend a very long time waiting for the other one to go first.

And Then There’s Control

This one can be sneaky.

Correcting.

Reminding.

Managing.

Monitoring.

Teaching.

Explaining.

Taking over.

Doing it yourself because they won’t do it “right.”

Making the decisions because somebody has to.

Calling it helpful.

Calling it concern.

Calling it being responsible.

And sometimes that’s exactly what it is.

But sometimes…

it’s control with better PR.

Now Strip It Down

This is where I want to leave this.

Take your partner out of it for a minute.

Not because their behavior doesn’t matter.

It does.

Not because they don’t have things to work on.

They probably do.

But we’re not looking at them right now.

Take away everything they’ve done wrong.

Take away everything they need to change.

And then take away everything you’ve done right.

Everything you’ve provided.

Everything you’ve sacrificed.

Everything you’ve forgiven.

Everything you’ve tolerated.

Take away the intentions.

The explanations.

The reasons.

The: “Yes, but you don’t understand…”

And what’s left?

YOU.

Your reactions.

Your expectations.

Your conditions.

Your resentment.

Your enabling.

Your criticism.

Your control.

Your scorekeeping.

Your words.

Your behavior when you’re hurt.

Your behavior when you’re angry.

Your behavior when you’re disappointed.

The things you call helping that may sometimes be enabling.

The things you call honesty that may sometimes be hurtful.

The things you call communication that may sometimes be lecturing.

The things you call standards that may sometimes become conditions.

The things you call trying to save the relationship that may sometimes be trying to change the person you’re in it with.

I’m not giving you solutions this month.

No five things to work on.

No homework.

No nice little checklist.

I’m not even telling you what you need to change.

I just want you to look.

Not at your partner.

At you.

Not the person you meant to be.

Not the person you believe you are.

Not the person everybody else sees.

The person your partner actually experiences.

Who you are when you’re tired.

Who you are when you’re hurt.

Who you are when you’re angry.

Who you are when you’re disappointed.

Who you are when you’re not getting what you want.

Who you are when nobody else is watching.

And then we’re right back where we started.

WOULD YOU CHOOSE YOU?

You don’t have to tell me.

You don’t have to tell your partner.

You don’t even have to change anything today.

Just be willing to look.

Because sometimes the hardest person to see clearly in a relationship…

is ourselves.