Making The Wrong One Pay

Sometimes I think I make the wrong people pay for what hasn’t worked in past relationships, as if I’m living some sort of relationship hangover. In other words, the current love interest pays for the misdeeds of the former, just as the former paid for the failings of the one before. You know what I mean, don’t you? The one who has never lied to you says something that ignites memories of the last one who did. The one you decided to go out with bails out on a scheduled evening, and that elicits a decision never to see them again because of the memory of the one who constantly flaked, then dumped you altogether. Your response? An overreaction, inappropriate words or behaviors, which later you regret. Some refer to this as breakup baggage, but that’s too simplistic. I think it’s more accurate to say these are emotional responses that are misplaced, but triggered by incidents we simply don’t forget.

When Things Go Wrong - I’m certain I have inadvertently made women pay for the fallout from my own marriages and relationships. I imagine I’ve been on the receiving end of equal parts “payment” for what has gone wrong in their relationships. But I’m trying not to beat myself up over these lapses – not my own, not anyone else’s. Don’t we always absorb lessons from what we experience, and try not to repeat our mistakes? Don’t we also pay for the mistakes of others, including parents, siblings, spouses, or bosses? Isn’t a relationship hangover to be expected in any of these cases, and not necessarily the result of endings? Nothing to do with relationships is cut and dry, of course. For example, if we’ve been burned by infidelity, we will (hopefully) be more attuned to the signs. Unfortunately, our epiphanies don’t appear in an orderly sequence with immediate improvements to our judgment. And it is only with the long view that we see where we went off track. Consequently, we can identify the path we don’t want to take again.

What We Learn From Past Mistakes - We all learn from our mistakes if we’re lucky, though it may take some of us years for the lessons to crystallize into a revised approach that is more comfortable. The beauty of experiencing several relationships before making a significant commitment is, among other things, what we learn about ourselves. We learn what we like and what we’re good at. This may include our physical “type” in the ways in which we are good at loving another person, and how we like to spend our time with that person in a relationship. We may also come to an understanding of how much we are willing to sacrifice (and compromise), how much time we like to spend together (and apart), and how important the approval of others is to us – integrating our special someone into family gatherings, work events, with children, with friends. As in any relationship, we deal with false steps – trusting too quickly (or too slowly), revealing too much (or not enough), expecting too much (or too little), and finding some differences unmanageable while others are met with greater flexibility than we thought. If and when the relationship ends, we make note and hopefully we work to understand where we need to be a “better self” and also, make better choices.

We All Pay For The One Who Came Before - One friend was affectionate, funny and deeply caring. When we met, I hadn’t felt much when my marriage was ending, and she hadn’t been in a serious relationship in a long time. We clicked immediately, our romance progressed in storybook fashion, and we adored each other. There were problems, but one that began to grate on me over time was this: She had difficulty saying “I love you,” though in her own way, she let me know how she felt, but I ached a little when I said “I love you” and she beamed but couldn’t speak the words back to me. So was I paying for one of her failed relationships that came before? Was there something in her childhood that was the cause, that she couldn’t put her finger on? I asked, but she had no answer. In the relationship that followed, I was hungrier than I realized for a woman who could articulate her feelings clearly and without hesitation. Out the window went my usual good judgment about taking my time, and in part because she said the words, I fell hard and fast. We burned brightly for awhile until her passion turned (as quickly) to someone else. I was deeply hurt. After that? For three years, my heart was locked up tight.

Where We Are, Who We Are - When I consider the woman I want to be with now, her capacity to trust, her willingness to compromise, the amount of time we spend together (often in discussion) I recognize that she is a “choice” that nourishes me in ways that I have not been nourished before (the upside to those relationship lessons). Her desire to share so much of herself and her life with me, to talk and laugh, it’s heaven in my book. Most of my relationships had no such desire. It's the clarity with which I drew boundaries in my relationship. In my marriages, I gave too much and I gave up too much. I said nothing until it was too late. In any new relationship, I speak my need for boundaries and I stand up for what I love. This includes necessary time alone and significant time to write.

Clearly in some respects, the next woman in my life will pay for my exes shortcomings. To be more precise, the shortcomings of the dynamic between my ex and myself. After all, it takes two to make a relationship falter, and two to make it work. Then again, in me she has found areas of compatibility that did not exist, and she insists in ways that are important to her. Perhaps a better way to view relationship experience is this: Though we may exact a price for what we learn, however imperfectly, we also benefit from it as well...

facebook.com/RelationshipLessons
twitter.com/RShipLessons