The more romantic relationships I have, the less reasons I find to leave one. It’s not so much that my relationships have consecutively gotten better, it’s that every time, I’m less afraid of loving the whole person — not just specific parts of them. I take less and less personally, and it doesn’t cut as deep. Romantic relationships, for me, is my most treasured spiritual practice — it’s the most beautiful and the most painful.
The other night, as I laid in fetal position sick with the flu, I relived the moments in my life when I’ve experienced unequaled clarity into my unconscious behaviors, jolts from the cosmos that propelled me toward my highest self. Many of these have been from experiences relating to romantic relationships — specifically the heartbreaks, the times that are so painful all there is to do is surrender and eventually come out on the other side laughing and crying at how beautiful and ridiculous it all is. And how great it is to be able to share that with someone else.
We’re conditioned to believe that relationships are supposed to be easy — seamless, like a Disney fairytale. So no wonder they’re so damn difficult. We put so much pressure on each other and ourselves to be “perfect”. So of course, when things come up, they cloud the connection because communication isn’t open, honest, free-flowing. And we’re way too hard on ourselves. Like were we supposed to come into this chaotic, constantly-in-flux universe with a cheat code for knowing exactly what to do all the time? Of course not — plus that would be no fun.
I would always rather try to work through something, understand someone deeper, challenge myself to accept them and love them fully for how they are in that moment. The alternative is to walk a road that leads to breaking up, giving up, and eventually finding myself in the same position with someone else — the same fears and expectations clashing with reality. I might as well see if I can work through it the first time.
I remember a beautiful relationship ending with a discussion about trying an open relationship, and I just couldn’t get myself to even agree to trying. I regretted that for a long time because I had let fear get in between me and someone I loved deeply — but not deeply enough to love them in an unselfish way, to want them to be happy before all else, to honor their growth and journey, and continue by their side, as long as they wanted me to be.
Cause that’s what we’re really looking for. We’re looking for someone who loves us unconditionally. Someone who understands we won’t always be at our best, or our worst. Someone who can remind us that we’re worthy of loving ourselves.
Perfect is boring anyways.
