This year, I stopped using the d-word. It feels like a relic from a past when I’ve not
always made the kinds of conscious choices about relationships that I would’ve
hoped to. One realisation this year has been just how I’ve often too quick to commit
and haven’t allowed and created the spaciousness that healthy relationships need.
Dropping the d-word helps us to deliberately step outside of the normative actions
and choices that can define dating. By stepping outside of existing models, we are
invited, instead, to communicate and create connections based on needs and
feelings in the now.
I’ve written before about how, socially and culturally, two opposing models of
relationships tend to dominate: the one-night stand or the forever connection.
But if we’re not in either a one-night stand or a long-term committed relationship then
what script do we follow? What route? There are few paths visible to us, and yet
stepping into the wilderness of ‘getting to know’ can, for that very reason, feel
liberating. We get to create a path that we tread together for the first time. In fact, all
relationships are unique in this way. This path simply keeps the uniqueness in focus.
But it can also feel a little unfamiliar.
Co-creating connections intentionally, and slowly, allows us to see the
assumptions we normally work under and interrogate them.
Being in the unfamiliar wilderness of ‘getting to know’ lays bare a simple yet often
uncomfortable truth about all relationships: they change.
If we drop ALL expectations of anything other than honesty and kindness,
playfulness and connection – if we can wait to see what grows, or doesn’t – then we
see what the connection would like to be as opposed to what we think it should it be.
This isn’t about staying quiet and still in the hope that the things we long for will
happen if we don’t say anything (which is how many situationships happen/are) but
the opposite: instead of quietening our voices down, we speak very clearly of our
needs from the very start. And before we speak up, we tune into what they really are,
as opposed to what we think they should be or would like them to be. We also really
listen to and hear when other people tell us what they need and want, as opposed to
hearing what we want to hear.
Not minding what happens is helpful here too. Though it’s likely you do (we all
do), and this caring can also be helpful to tune into. What is that telling you about
what you need? I invite you to consider all the ways in which those needs might be
met.
Let’s look at why things often operate differently when we’re ‘getting to know’ people.
Why it can feel tricky to slow things down
Moving too quickly, especially getting into a committed relationship too quickly (third
date ‘what are we’ conversations, anyone?) is often a function of a few common, and
related, ways of thinking: scarcity mentality, anxiety about our needs not being met,
and the need for certainty.
Scarcity mentality
This speaks of a fear that there is a lack, a scarcity of people with whom we might
connect and experience joy and fun as well as grow. This is not the place to explore
this idea in too much detail, but the idea is one worth exploring in your own time.
What stories have you internalised about relationships? About connection? How
often do you feel as though you must ‘take what’s on offer’ as opposed to
considering whether it’s the right thing for you? How often do you pause or reflect? It
can be hard to ‘not mind what happens’ when we fear this person in front of us is the
only person who will meet a need.
Anxiety about needs not being met
We can hope and dream of things and WANT certain things so very badly, so very
desperately, that, similarly to the above, we end up accepting a poor facsimile in the
short term as opposed to waiting the need out, waiting out the desire and being
patient enough for a better fit.
Connection then becomes quite transactional: a way of getting a box ticked or a
need satisfied in the now. This can be pleasurable, but can leave us empty
afterwards. Often, as soon as the need is met, another pops up immediately in its
place: the ego always demands more. This can be a helpful thing to experience and
see clearly. Pausing can allow us to see how our needs are dictating our choices in
ways that are less than helpful.
It’s also necessary to face the feeling that these needs may never be met – this can
be liberating work. To be free of wanting is the aim: a distant goal for most of us,
including me, but a worthwhile aim all the same. To be free of wanting means to be
taking the appropriate action towards your dreams and needs while letting go of
demands about outcomes.
Craving certainty
This a very human need. The brain and body find uncertainty very difficult to sit with.
And yet, everything is fundamentally uncertain, and so it can be helpful to take every
opportunity to cultivate our ability to hold this feeling. Being able to ‘not know’ what
something ‘is’ or ‘where it might go’ is at the heart of living well as well as relating
well. How we do this is by accepting the fact of uncertainty and, slowly, over time,
even learning to enjoy the not knowing and to have fun seeing what happens next.
So, how to create ample space and time to get to know someone?
One suggestion could be to take your usual time frame and double it. If you would
normally expect to see someone every week, make it every two weeks or more.
Daily texts can be, maybe even should be, every-few-days texts.
Create space without manipulation and communicate expectations around how you
keep in touch: just because you can be in touch doesn’t mean you need to be.
Be clear and be kind. It’s okay to be busy/have other things to do – it’s okay to say
no. Dropping hobbies, friends, solo time are all classic normative behaviours, and it
can be helpful to recognise them and work to mitigate these tendences if you have
them.
We can be excited about getting to know someone and still take our time.
Be curious about the ways in which you think: curiosity is the first step on the path to
conscious change and choosing. It fascinates me that I still so often think other
people are more entitled to my time than I am. It also fascinates me that I will allow
others to create space for themselves but will often not take it for myself. Lastly, it
fascinates me that I see others pleasing themselves and yet I often struggle to do the
same. Changing how you behave can feel uncomfortable, but not everything that is
the right thing to do will always FEEL right. Slowing down helps you see the
difference.
I have a theory that the reason many people avoid getting to know others past the
first date or two is because they fear getting ‘stuck’ or feeling as if a set of
expectations/actions are triggered, like a mechanism, because you have met more
than a few times. Getting to know each other more slowly and intentionally can
mitigate against this and instead fosters a space where we can see what the
connection would like to be.
Spaciousness allows feelings to develop naturally as opposed to being generated
artificially by speed and expectations. How many times have we created the feeling
as opposed to allowing it to develop on its own? How might it feel to see what this
connection would like to be as opposed to what you think you want it to be?
Hold the complexity and be present to the now
Quite simply: enjoy that date, that drink, that experience without anticipating the next.
Enjoy the process of getting to know; be fully open to it. Pay attention to when your
mind spins ahead with story about what will or won’t happen next. Don’t plan too
much. Be here now. I know it’s easier said than done sometimes. It can be helpful to
reflect on where moving too quickly has taken you in the past and that feeling
uncomfortable doing things differently doesn’t mean it’s wrong.
A good rule of thumb is to only plan as far ahead as the length of time you’ve known
someone. And to keep plenty of space in communication.
Pay attention to how the feelings come and go. Rather than ‘hoping’ or ‘fearing’ that
feelings happen, we can, instead, watch them move and see what remains over
time.
Let’s all admit that we don’t know how things will go, how they will be, and agree instead to always be honest, always be kind.
We cannot know, should not know, how things will be, and yet we can choose to be
kind, to ourselves and to others. All relationships, with big and small ‘r’s, involve risk,
so be gentle and easy on everyone, but most importantly on the self.
Addendum
I found this piece of writing by Paige of Poly.land helpful for articulating things and
I’ve quoted at length below:
Sometimes I wonder if it’s a form of cruelty, to get so close to people and then turn
away. The trouble is that it’s difficult to know if things are going to work with a
person until you give it a try. Humans are generally bad at predicting how things will
feel.
Wouldn’t it be crueler still to keep someone in your life out of a sense of obligation?
To tolerate them while feigning love? I certainly think so.
Besides, once we step off the standard model of the relationship escalator, we can
move away from some of the old assumptions: Just because a relationship ends
doesn’t mean it was a failure — and it also doesn’t mean that it couldn’t one day
begin again.
I often go into relationships with a very explicit understanding that most will be
temporary or intermittent, a matter of the odds of compatibility, emotional
habituation, and mutual bandwidth.
It seems a little crude to offer a disclaimer to every new partner. “This is probably not
going to be a ’til death do us part thing since most relationships aren’t.” Yeah, not so
much.
It would be nice to go into relationships with a clear picture of what the future will
hold. Sadly, relationships inevitably involve uncertainty, risk. We don’t really know.
The best we can do is avoid lasting harm. This holds especially true in the early
stages.
Dan Savage’s campsite rule comes to mind: “As with campers at campsites, the
older partners of younger people should always leave ’em in better shape than they
found ’em. Don’t get ’em pregnant, don’t give ’em diseases, and don’t lead ’em to
believe that a long-term relationship is even a remote possibility. … And if you do the
right thing—and leave ’em in better shape than you found ’em—your younger lovers
will always speak highly of you.”
Further reading/watching
https://poly.land/2016/10/18/relationships-catch-release/
https://www.ordinarymind.com/talks/62-being-dependent-intelligently
The chapter ‘Relationships Don’t Work’ from Everyday Zen by Joko Beck – I highly
recommend the whole book but this chapter is helpful and insightful on its own.
https://www.translatum.gr/forum/index.php?topic=7061.0
