The perceived wisdom is that relationships end because we fall out of love. We enter relationships because we are in love and are loved and we end them when love runs out.
What if we thought about it in a different way.
Successful relationships are based on being able to operate as a ‘whole’ person. Where all parts of us are turned on and tuned in. Our genius is nailing it; we’re overflowing with empathy and we’re getting loads back in return.
When relationships don’t work it turns everything upside down. We withdraw or become a reduced, our pride suffers, and it can get truly traumatic. It can become a morale sapping ‘free for all’.
What happens when your primary relationship does a bit of a seismic shift? Is it flight or fight?
Ok, time for me to start speaking from the heart.
Four years ago my man and I bought a bar. This added in a major way to a situation that was already complicated. I was still in start-up mode with GeniusYou. We had three kids between us and difficult relationships with former partners. And we got married along the way.
Not surprisingly our relationship moved from pretty damn good to trauma inducing.
My husband is not highly introspective. If I ask him what he’s thinking, he’s likely to say, ‘I’m wondering whether it was……….. in the 1980 remake of …….
He’s fun. He’s an experienced closer, while I’m a digestor, a dot connector, a deep truth seer.
If you ask me what I’m thinking, make sure you have a spare hour or three.
When we went into business together, yes the bar, if things went wrong I would start investigating, trying to find out what was wrong and why and then fix it.
More often than not he saw this as being an examination of him, which would produce a trauma-inducing reaction. I would respond accordingly. Well, why wouldn’t I. Being inquisitive and fixing things is how I do me.
This was the pattern every day for the past four years. Talk about a vicious circle.
Before becoming a bar manager and owner, he was a flight attendant. He was joyful and a joy to be with. When he left for a trip, I would often cry because I was going to miss him so much.
However, when we bought a bar he stopped doing joy and moved to ‘needy’. As for me, I moved to deflated, then resentful and finally detachment.
Fast forward to two weeks ago and this is what we know now. My man can’t do chaos. My genius can’t be used on him. We both get it. Sounds simple, but it took a lot for me to see all this and it was no easy journey for both of us to get there.
We’ve moved from the trauma and helplessness to finding out how to be loved and in love again.
What’s the moral of the story?
We didn’t fall out of love, we were just doing more trauma than love. Being in love became so damn difficult. We had to do some untangling, practice some humility, park our egos and put ourselves back together again – differently.
PS. You’re welcome to come and untangle your traumas with me.