Coupledom - 039
The Leap
When we moved in last Fall, one of the nicest surprises was several neighbors coming over with scones, brownies, and flowers to welcome us. This month, we watched from our kitchen window as a moving truck unloaded into the yellow house across the street.
We thought we should pay it forward.
Because even friendships these days require a meetcute.
So, on a sunny but brisk 25° Sunday, the four of us bundled up to deliver a hand-written note and a loaf of banana bread. Just before we rang the doorbell, I thought:
THIS IS CRAZY.
But then again, any first meeting is a little crazy.
You have no idea who this stranger could be.
It's scary!
But we do it, despite the fear we have.
That– by my definition– is an act of bravery.
Speaking of bravery, I realize that a pleasant first interaction is not a given for everyone. As a cis-gendered, white-passing, heterosexual, able-bodied, English-speaking male, I don't have too much to worry about. But for so many people, interactions with strangers comes with fear and uncertainty.
It requires a bravery I couldn't imagine just to go out of the house and order a coffee or mail a letter.
I'm keeping that in mind for every first interaction.
Our neighbors weren't actually home. (Phew, amirite?) But they did send us an appreciative text message later on and said they hoped to meet us as the weather gets warmer. Another act of bravery to come...
This month, I'm writing to expand my understanding of coupledom.
From first meeting to friendship, chemistry, and love.
For a good time, keep reading.
The Game of Love
Objective
Find a partner before you die. (Or turn 30. Maybe 35.)
Setup
Only if you have to. Meeting someone on your own is preferred.
Gameplay
Nearly everyone is playing. Once someone finds a partner, they are no longer in the game.
Find every opportunity to meet potential partners.
Show interest in a potential partner.
Defining a meeting time and place for 1:1 interaction.
With each subsequent meeting, decide whether they match your personal (and somewhat arbitrary) criteria. Hope it's mutual. :fingers crossed emoji:
Before you know everything about this person, commit to spending the rest of your life together.
Continue step 5 forever.
Scoring
This joke is too easy.
Strategy
• Play the game long enough to have fun, but not too long that you're left playing alone.
• A partner could be found literally anywhere. But because we rarely go anywhere and seldom meet new people, try any app that lets you judge worthiness of potential partners as quickly as possible.
• Aim for authenticity overall, but be desirable first (attractive, funny, clever).
• You may have a supportive team, but in the end, it's every one for themself.
Chemistry
It's the word we use when we describe two people getting along well. Being compatible.
There's literal brain chemistry active up there; sparking the reward and motivation centers of our brain and increasing production of dopamine and oxytocin.
But I think it could be even more poetic.
When we mix two elements together, there's a reaction.
You and me lead to a sudden bubbling, chaos, explosiveness.
Chemistry is exciting.
But chemical reactions are not long-lasting.
Opposite and complementary elements lead to an intense chemistry.
Elements that are stable and aligned don't usually explode.
That's where chemistry and compatibility diverge.
They're not the same thing.
Compatibility and chemistry can coexist. Both should be present.
But we shouldn't confuse one with the other. Relationship expert Ester Perel says of couples' chemistry that "Fire needs air... Eroticism has elements of instability and the unknown. And for long term partnerships, we often trade that instability for comfort."
The challenge then is to create chemistry within a compatible, stable relationship.
How do we safely introduce instability to make the familiar feel new?
Where is there room for chemistry in our longer commitments?
Relationship Models
Over the last 20 years, I've started a running list of metaphors of the kinds of relationships I've been in and seen. They've helped me better identify which ones I'd like to be in, and make sense of the ones I'm in.
Maybe it will help you make sense of yours, too.
CAVE DWELLER AND BAT
Both in the dark together. No real way of communicating. (Also, sort of scared of each other.)
TWO MOLES
Spend most of their time in complete darkness without direction. Just guessing which way is up or out, always trying to find their way.
THE FERRIS WHEEL
This is not going anywhere, but it's fun for now.
THE DENTIST CHAIR
This is not going anywhere, and it's not fun at all. Mostly painful.
ADOPTING AN ELDERLY PET
Good company for each other, but is that what you really want?
THE RODEO
How long can you stay on this wild ride? Also, what's the point?
SHEPHERD/ESS AND SHEEP
One has a clear vision on where this is going, the other is being led.
THE KID AND THE KITE
Seems like fun, but one person is holding the other one back.
PAIR OF EIGHTS
Both feel like they're stretching and working hard to "earn" the other.
COPILOTS
Shared destination, getting there together. Possible risks: neither know how to fly and the plane is going down.
FIREFIGHTERS
Going to the same place, one drives the front and one leads from the back. Great communication because they're not always directly together, but shared goals. Put out fires along the way. They both know that it takes work.
Been in one of these before?
You Are Not Normal
Our lives are finite.
We only have about four thousand weeks. If we're lucky.
And that can mean that we overvalue our time.
So we feel we must hold ourselves to the highest standards with who we spend it with: don't waste your precious life, don't settle for a less-than-perfect partner or job.
But the truth is, settling is unavoidable.
As Oliver Burkeman puts it, "We must settle in order for our striving to be considered striving."
That is to say, that if we are ever to choose a relationship, we can't expect perfection.
Anyone knows who's been in a relationship long enough has come to the same realization:
My once perfect partner is not actually perfect. Or even normal.
"Those that we believe are normal are those we don’t well enough yet." Says Alain de Botton of The School of Life.
The difficulty in love, then, is first choosing a partner that isn't perfect.
And second, learning to love them and all their imperfection.
In this way, to love is to accept.
The longer we know someone the more we learn that they are neither perfect nor normal.
And as I am discovering that about them, my partner is discovering that about me.
Oof. Terrifying!
It's what makes love and intimacy so hard.
Loving someone becomes intense hope and trust; that if I accept you as imperfect and abnormal, that you will accept me too.
And so... we choose to leap.
To hope and trust in our partners that they will accept us and all our imperfection.
Love is choosing to act despite the fear.
Love is an act of bravery.
––––––––
I tried to keep Anne Lamott's quote in mind here: "The key to good writing (and good relationships) is having a likeable narrator. Someone with an interesting POV who takes you through a story."
I hope you enjoyed this month's refrigerator.
I love hearing your thoughts and reflections.
Just reply. Or, please share it with a friend.
Thanks for reading and just being your abnormal, imperfect self today.
Sending love,
-Jake
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