Lady Chatterly argues that love complements people who are already whole
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The first time I saw Cameron Crowe’s film Jerry Maguire, when Tom Cruise utters those famous words “You complete me,” I’ll admit that I (along with most of the female population) swooned. I was young, single, and idealistic. To me, those words described exactly how I thought love should be: finding that special person, who completes you. Who makes you feel “whole.”
A few weeks ago, channel surfing late at night while battling insomnia, I landed on Jerry Maguire and watched it through to the end. It was the first time I’d seen it in years and certainly the first time I’d watched it since getting married. When Tom Cruise uttered those iconic words the second time, I didn’t swoon. Not at all.
It’s hard to deny that the expression “You complete me” is poetic and romantic. The stuff romantic comedies are made of. And yet, as I sat reflecting on the film in the quiet early hours of the morning, I realized that I felt very differently about my own relationship. You see, my husband doesn’t complete me. I wasn’t wandering around with a piece of myself missing until he came into my life. Without him, I would still be a “whole” person. We complement but also do not complete one another.
The idea of being half of one whole can be traced back to Greek Mythology. In his text Symposium, Plato writes “… humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate beings, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves…” He adds: “Love is simply the name for the desire and pursuit of the whole.”
As fiercely romantic as this sounds, truthfully, I don’t think it would be fair to expect my husband to complete me. This concept implies a neediness. A reliance. A dependence. The idea of not being fully formed without the presence, or indeed the existence of another.
And yet this notion of romantic completion isn’t just in films or love songs. I’ve often heard people talking about their partners in a similar manner, about being two halves of a whole. Of finding their missing piece. And yet I wonder if, on reflection, people actually do hold this belief or rather, whether they’ve simply bought into this romantic idealization sold to us by movies such as Jerry Maguire. For while it sounds romantic and lovely in theory, it’s perhaps a little odd, dare I say scary, when you think more realistically about what this actually means. To be completed. To need completing.
My husband and I pride ourselves on our independence. We have our own passions and careers and friends. We are two whole people who enjoyed full and satisfying lives before we met, but for whom life is enriched and fun when we’re in it together. I believe the fact that we both possess a solid sense of self, that we know who we are as individuals and what we value and aspire to outside of our marriage as well as within in, is part of what makes us so strong. So resilient.
I adore my husband. He adores me. Challenges me. Irritates me. Teases me. Supports me. Accompanies me lovingly and expertly as we jointly navigate the pain and joy and messiness of being human. But he doesn’t complete me. And I’m okay with that.
What do you think? Does your partner complete you?
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image credit: Flickr/musapix
I had the same reaction to that line in Jerry Maguire. Actually I’m pretty sure I grimaced.
It’s not just the *relationships make us whole*-ers who do this–I ran into these types when I became a mother. The “I was always missing something, until I had my child”-types. Never mind that I was barely 23 when I gave birth and was a *whole person* long before then. My first husband didn’t complete me, despite spending 13 years with him, because he wasn’t *it*. Eight years after our divorce my boyfriend doesn’t complete me, because I was already complete at the age of 38. He enhances me, he makes me happier (not happy, happier), he improves my life.… Read more »
> “And yet I wonder if, on reflection, people actually do hold this belief or rather, > whether they’ve simply bought into this romantic idealization sold to us by movies such as Jerry Maguire.” I think most people hold this belief because they feel incomplete, missing, lacking. Because they aren’t (yet) developed and grown enough (perhaps like you did when you first saw “Jerry Maguire” 😉 ). Then, media just pile up onto that innermost belief. Although I agree with Paul above, about never being fully whole, I think we CAN become real grown-ups, standing on our legs, reasonably happy… Read more »
Hi LC – I think the truth is a little (or a lot) more complex here. The truth is that no one is REALLY complete. No one is REALLY whole. The Boss nails it, so poetically, in HUMAN TOUCH: >>> So you’ve been broken and you’ve been hurt Show me somebody who ain’t. Yeah, I know I aint nobodys bargain But, hell, a little touch up and a little paint… >>> To some degree, we’re all broken, we’re all wounded, we’re all missing pieces of whatever WHOLENESS really looks like. And anyone we attract, who is attracted to us, will… Read more »
Hi Paul, Insightful as ever. Yes – you are absolutely right. We are all broken and incomplete. That’s what makes us so wonderfully human. I suppose what I was saying, perhaps not eloquently enough, is that we can’t look to another person to fix those broken pieces or complete the missing parts of us. It’s something we have to do for ourselves over the course of a life time. I wonder if being whole, also allows for the possibility of being a little broken. To be broken is to be human. As you say. And the Boss 😉 It’s nice… Read more »
I understand what the author is saying, and even agree to a point, but I think that in many cases, one’s significant other could help to “fill in the gaps” of one’s life. So, let’s say, hypothetically, that you have a guy who has a fantastic, well-paying job, and a basically fulfilling life, but he never learned to cook and leads a rather sedentary lifestyle. But he falls in love with a woman who is very health conscious and loves to cook (this is just an example – I’m not trying to perpetuate any stereotypes here). The guy was probably… Read more »
I don’t think that is the type of completing that she is meaning, or that was meant in Jerry Maguire. That is certainly complimenting each other though, possibly making them together better than they would have been on their own. I believe the author is referring to things such as happiness and the sense of self. A person should already be living life on their own, rather than dependent on a relationship or another person to provide that spark of life. There are many men looking for the Manic Pixie Dream Girl to complete them, and women looking for Prince… Read more »
Thank you Steve. That’s exactly what I was saying 🙂
I don’t agree and maybe it’s just wording and semantics – very few people are fully rounded, at any stage of their life and for various reasons. Human social interactions, by design, are a necessary but not sufficient means of rounding a human. Close and intimate human interactions serve this same end and build on the unique strengths of individuals within the partnership. If to complete means to strengthen and improve and grow – then human interactions do exactly this and close intimate human interactions are simply more of that goodness. Your notion of completeness may differ.
@LC I think the kind of love you are talking about,the soaring,swooning,movie screen idol stuff,is a hindrance to cultivating the kind longlasting love people say they want.Women in western culture are taught to covet that kind of thing as substantial. I am with you on this post.There is far too much reliance on romantic love to make people happy. Or it is misused as the leading metric in defining the value of the relationship.That kind of love comes from the belly not ones’ “heart”.I feel as though the overemphasis in our culture of romantic love sets people up for unhappiness.It… Read more »
Nicely done. I agree with you completely. I like to say…when 2 people come to the playground with 2 full buckets, they can play. Don’t come to the playground with your bucket filled with holes and half empty hoping for me to fill it. 🙂
Loved your writing