The Stories We Tell
“He who learns but does not think, is lost.
He who thinks but does not learn is in great danger.”
Confucius
These letters are about changing ideas. Of course, cultural ideas permeate the stories we tell in our movies, books, and music. A particular idea of romance is ingrained in us as early as our parents could drop us in front of the TV, show us children’s movies, or tell us bedtime stories.
Historically, most movies, songs, and fairytales tell us that the secret to happiness is finding love. After that, you will live “happily ever after.” You are miserable alone and life is perfect after you meet your perfect partner. Roll credits.
Women are helpless until a man rescues them. Men, your role is the rescuer.
Countless love songs tell us that we’re incomplete until we fall in love. And then that we can’t live without our loved ones.
What if all of these concepts aren’t just bullshit, but are in fact setting us up for deeply unfulfilling relationships and lives?
What if we’re miserable not because we’re single or because of our partner, but because we think we’re suppose to be miserable without a culturally idealized version of love? What if we feel incomplete only because we have come to believe that it is someone else’s job to make us feel whole? What if we’re looking to be rescued and playing the victim only because we’re told that’s the way to find love? Must we then always keep ourselves weak? Must we refuse to rescue ourselves because if we do, we might never meet our white knight? What if we’re unhappy simply because we think we’re suppose to be because we haven’t met a concocted definition of a happy life?
And what if by telling men they are supposed to be rescuers, we are teaching them to be attracted only to those in need of rescuing? And then, what happens if a man succeeds in rescuing someone? Once rescued, a person no longer needs a knight in shining armor. Does that mean men must rescue women but also enable their weaknesses in order to keep them in a position of constantly needing a rescue? Is that sustainable? Could women fall into the same trap? Could they also be taught that the key to their value lies in taking care and rescuing others? Rescuing for a sense of value but unconsciously making sure their partners continuously need rescuing in order to make sure they continue to feel needed?
What if there could be a different paradigm? One that sees relationships as beautiful and equal. No hero, no damsel. No rescuer, no victim. What if you are already complete, with or without a partner? What if two people choose to share life as equals who are already complete with or without each other, or children or anyone else? These partners wouldn’t be trying to complete or rescue each other, but rather to provide loving, balanced companionship as best they imperfectly can. They could show they are neither knights in shining armors nor damsels in distress, and learn to love and accept each other, wonderful imperfections and all. These people would not look to their kids for the unfair responsibility of making their parents feel whole.
The notion of expecting your partner to be your “other half” who completes you, is your best friend, your partner in crime, your sexual ideal, your soul mate, and your reason for living puts an impossible expectation on any relationship. Can anyone live up that ideal? Even if they live up to it today, can they keep it up until death do they part?
This notion of a partner filling so many roles is a relatively new one. If we go back a few generations, no one thought their partner had to be a nearly perfect spouse, best friend, lover, support network, and soul mate. This is not to say that people weren’t romantic, but there were different expectations as to what roles a mate would fill. Emotional needs could be met by friends, family, and loved ones, thereby making us more independent (of our partners) and more interdependent (with society as a whole). So what if to have healthy relationships, we have to rely on multiple people? What if all adults are ultimately responsible for themselves? Would that not allow us to form healthier relationships?
Addiction to romance (also called “love addiction” or a form of codependency) can be excruciatingly difficult to part with. Who doesn’t want that ideal we’ve seen in movies and heard in songs our whole lives? It’s a wonderful, heart-warming dream, so it's understandable why we grasp at it from a very young age and well into adulthood. But I encourage you to take a moment and ask if that ingrained idea really serves us. We all deserve love and, as someone who loves you, I ask you to consider being open to love on different terms.
Ask Yourself:
Do I expect someone else to complete me or to be the key to my happiness?
What unhelpful ideas have I learned from the stories I was told in my youth?
Am I already rescuing myself?
Next Letter: Balance