Should everyone be involved in romantic relationships? Actually, I don’t think so. I don’t think we’re all cut out for them. I don’t think I am. I don’t believe I’m equipped for them, based on long-term experience.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m a supportive partner, and I often put my own needs to one side, especially the emotional ones. And that might not be a good thing. It might be a valid reason for me not to be in a relationship. Because, over time, resentment does build up, even if it is habitually pushed down under the pretence that it doesn’t exist. 

And being the self-sacrificing partner might seem good on paper – saintly, even (I have been called selfless more than once… though not recently. Maybe I’m becoming less selfless, or maybe my selflessness is being taken for granted). But what if it is an unconscious form of control? I think it could be. Rather like adopting the role of parent to the child-partner. That way, you don’t allow yourself to become vulnerable, because you’re the parent and therefore the strong one. So, in reality, it is your vulnerability you are attempting to protect. Of course, there are plenty of other ways to be vulnerable, and a romantic relationship has the capacity to savagely weed them all out. However, the parent-figure often ends up at the mercy of the damaged, angry, hurt, child-figure, and their need to dominate and control the relationship (as toddlers are wired to do). And no one admits to any of it, because it is too complex and disconcerting to face.

And here’s a question: In friendships, why do we not experience the same level of drama, blame, deflection, withholding, intolerance, and emotional neglect or cruelty that is often par for the course in families and romantic relationships? Wouldn’t we all just be better off as mates?  How many times have we witnessed our parents and our partners being wonderful and charming around people they barely know – whilst being very comfortable with behaving destructively behind closed doors? To their supposed ‘loved’ ones? How many times have we ourselves been guilty of that? How many times have we been on the receiving end of it? Too many to count, probably. 

The thing is, we can choose our friends and our partners, but not our family members. So, we might feel stuck with them. Or, even if we distance ourselves from them, we continue to re-enact, in romantic relationships, the sins committed against us by those we are desperately trying to detach from. Can you say for sure that this definitely doesn’t apply to you? You’ve never treated a partner the way you were treated by a parent or guardian? The behaviour that broke your heart and shaped your perception of yourself? Dismissiveness. Refusal to listen. Criticism. Blame. Guilt-tripping. Emotional neglect. Disinterest. All those behaviours that crushed your spirit and caused you to feel worthless and unloved. Of course, there was probably a bit of good thrown in there, which you yourself might now throw your partner’s way. Imagine if we tried the same stunts on our friends. Would they be likely to stick around? Hell no. So, why do we inflict it upon the man or woman we supposedly ‘love’? 

And why do we accept it from a partner?  We’re all inflicting our personal psychological damage, from a small degree to a massive degree, on romantic partners, whether we’re willing to admit it or not. We can all be victims, and we can all be perpetrators – to a lesser or greater extent. Some of us unconsciously adopt the victim role in all relationships, and some of us automatically take on the mantle of perpetrator. And it isn’t always obvious to the outside world which player is which. Both players can hide behind a mask, especially the perp. Survival is of utmost importance to them, even more important than their partner. Do the players switch roles? To a small degree, maybe, but not notably – is my observation, at least. It tends to be one or the other.

I know that this has been a cynical appraisal of romantic love – and I am sure that there are millions of contented folk out there, happily waking up next to their soulmates every day (well, maybe not sure, but open to the idea). Human beings are going to continue to yearn for romantic love, until hell freezes over. And they’ll continue to not think it through, to lick their wounds after a relationship implodes on itself… and then start looking for the next one. We’re idealistic, masochistic, pattern-repeating idiots. And we’ll never change. We could, though, choose to become a whole lot more conscious as a partner. To be willing to self-reflect and work on the self, where necessary, rather than reacting and repeating the same old patterns. To approach the relationship intelligently and humbly. To be as kind and supportive of our partner as we are with friends, and to be mindful of the impact our behaviour and attitude has on our partner’s mental and emotional health. And the courage to be open to self-regulation, admitting when we’ve been wrong. It sounds so easy, doesn’t it? If only it were…