Over the years I’ve become pretty selective in my dating life. It took me over a decade to figure out I don’t actually have to date people just because they’re nice. In the process, I discovered I only want to date people with good communication skills, a willingness to commit, an analytical mindset, and other passions than just Netflix. My dream partner is an entrepreneurial nerd with well-developed social skills. They can hold space when I’m anxious, ground me when my mind is overflowing with different possibilities and support me in every attempt to grow. Oh, and they are okay with polyamory. And we have good chemistry and crazy good sex. What can I say? I guess there’s a reason why I don’t date much…
All my friends have their expectations too. Some like the outdoorsy types. Others want candlelight dinners. They want love, support, and respect. They want their partners to take care of them, to have fun together. Some want hearts and flowers, others want adventure. But in the end, everyone wants something.
Which makes sense, right? After all, if your life is already good as it is, you have expectations for the person who’s supposed to make it even better. Otherwise, why bother?
Most of my friends have a reasonably clear idea of what they’re looking for in a partner. But a few years, I turned things around with a question most people struggled with:
“Why would someone choose you as a partner, what is it that you bring to the table?”
Surprisingly, this question turned out to be a lot more difficult.
What the hell are love and respect?
Here’s a list of things people tell me when I ask them about the things they bring to the table when dating someone: love, respect, caring. One of my friends kept trying to dodge the question with her answer “everything”.
I’m terribly sorry but those words don’t mean shit.
I’m pretty sure everyone in a romantic relationship thinks they are loving and respectful. But while we feel this way about ourselves, we often don’t feel this way about others.
So when you’re saying you’re loving and respectful, what does that look like in daily life? What kind of actions does it translate to? Let’s get specific!
Try to describe what you bring to the table without using any abstract or subjective concepts. Here’s what you don’t get to use: loving, romantic, respectful, fun, honest (what does that mean? Does it mean you will never ever lie? Does it mean you’ll offer your unsolicited opinion, and if so — on what topics?), kind, caring, nurturing, adventurous, good/better/best, etc.
Suddenly it’s a lot harder.
Because suddenly you stop focusing on who you supposedly are and you start focusing on what you do. And isn’t what we do ultimately who we are?
Shattering my self-perception
I would like to think of myself as a loving, caring, and fun person. All of these are such positive descriptions that would be wonderful for my identity and ego.
Here’s the harsh truth, based on my behavior:
I’ll help you understand your life and career through conversation by asking a shitload of confronting questions. I can structure a billion activities into non-conflicting planning and I’ll happily help you plan your life as well. I can organize our financials (which is not quite the same as being good at making money). I’ve got Google skills (seriously — when I asked my partner James what he liked about me, this was the first thing that came to his mind) — if it’s out there, I’ll probably be able to look it up for you. I’ll join you on activities and will plan activities for us myself, as long as you don’t expect anything entirely unexpected or extreme sports.
When I read this stuff back, it sucks. I don’t want to be this person. I want to embrace the unexpected, be the manic pixie dream girl who will drag you with her on explorations and seduce you in the most random places. I want to be the kind of woman who surprises you with romantic getaways and has infinite patience (I don’t).
It’s easier for me to label myself as loving and fun, because the truth is that when I really get clear on what that translates to, I realize that maybe… I’m not as loving and fun as I want to be.
It shatters my self-perception. But what I’m left with, is a clearer image of who I am as a partner.
What do they want?
A while ago, I was annoyed with James, my partner. I thought he wasn’t living up to my idea of a loving and fun partner.
Then I stopped and asked myself: okay, but what do I bring to the table?
Not for myself, for him.
What would he need in a partner right now? Not according to my ideas of what he should need, but according to him? What can I do to bring more to the table? What if I stop thinking I’m already the most loving partner there can be and look at the behaviors he needs in that moment? Wouldn’t that be the most loving thing I can do?
So I did.
And you know what? In that moment, my being a loving partner didn’t mean I had to listen to everything he had going on and support his growth.
It meant I had to back off, focus on myself and give him some space to go through his own stuff.
That time, being loving wasn’t easy. I don’t think it has to be.
In the end, it’s a conversation
There are tons of things I love about being human, but the most important one is how I’m capable of growth. We all are.
What you bring to the table isn’t set in stone.
In the end, you and your partner work together to discover what both of you need to feel loved, respected, cared for.
It’s an ongoing conversation. What you needed a week ago, might not be the thing you need today.
I know that we are all loving, respectful, caring, and fun.
But maybe we need to face what this looks like in daily life to really get clear on what we bring to the table. And how changing it might help us improve our relationships.
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This post was previously published on medium.com.
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White Fragility: Talking to White People About Racism | Escape the “Act Like a Man” Box | The Lack of Gentle Platonic Touch in Men’s Lives is a Killer | What We Talk About When We Talk About Men |
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Photo credit: Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash