A few things I’m learning about love
Okay Friends, it’s time to come clean. After three marriages and more other couplings than I can count, I think I’m finally learning a few things about love.
Two years ago, I bumbled my way into a relationship that actually works. I haven’t wanted to jinx it by putting too many certain-sounding words on the page. But I think it’s time to try.
Many of us—men and women—are single. And we’re happy that way. We have friends and family and jobs. Creative and sporty pursuits. We come and go as we please. We date or we don’t. But every so often—late at night, or early in the morning, or on holidays, ugh, like Valentine’s Day—we wonder if pairing up is possible.
So we half-heartedly try. We intermittently try. We put our trying on hold because it’s boring or never ends well. Instead, we remind ourselves that life is easier alone. Because it is!
And yet…
Human beings are wired for intimacy. And as we age, there really are health benefits of having a partner. Plus, couldn’t we all use a little help from time to time? So we open the apps again and refresh our photos. We go solo to the theater or the farmer’s market and hope even just one age-appropriate single person will put down their phone and look us in the eye.
Meeting my Mountain Mensch wasn’t easy! But for me—and maybe also for you—it’s even harder to figure out all the things that come next. How much time to spend together and where. Doing what things? Coordinating food and money. Sex. Sleep. The peccadillos of our dogs. And then there’s communication! Blending our styles. Learning each others’ triggers. Building trust.
It’s A LOT!
But I think I’m finally learning a few things about how to appreciate another person’s imperfections, and to admit my own. And how to stick with a love that is healthy and gratifying, with a person who also is willing to learn and grow.
Love is a long game (though we’re short on patience). We want immediate gratification. And we want to know things before it’s possible to really know them. Instead of being curious and letting things unfold, we probably dig and needle and push. When I feel myself getting itchy for certainty, I remind myself there’s no such thing.
Love takes faith (though we’re skeptical). After so many train wrecks, it’s hard to believe we can ever stay on track. So the minute something feels off, we blame the other guy. Or we blame ourselves. When I’m short on faith, I look at the photos in my phone. I see love. I trust that love. And I find comfort in how far we’ve traveled.
Love can be whatever we want it to be (though we are creatures of habit). This is the biggest lesson of all. Just because we’ve married or co-habitated or felt trapped in our past relationships, we can do things differently now. This is true even for people who’ve been together for 30 years or more. For me, the first step is knowing that I need both freedom and togetherness. I need to be valued and heard. Living nearly four hours apart, at least for now, is right for both of us.
The psychologist Erik Erikson is most famous for his eight-stage theory of psychosocial development. He believed that at each stage, we face a crisis, and that by resolving it, we develop psychological strengths that help us become confident and healthy people. Resolution allows us to mature and move on.
I think that’s also true of relationships. That’s why we hit bumps in the road every time we feel the urge to deepen the commitment. We share. We pull away. We try again to say what we mean. We occasionally consider throwing in the towel. But thankfully, we don’t.
Because each stage gives us wisdom and experience. Each stage gives us confidence. Instead of saying, Love never works, we say, Let’s keep going. Let’s get it right this time.
And, as my Mountain Mensch likes to say, We’re not dumb!
