10 Things I've Learned About Love
I am bad at #9.
For years, I wrote about dating and relationships as part of my job. Breakups, first dates, milestones, moving in, moving out, dating apps, ghosting…my romantic life was fertile ground—not always for love, but for material.
These days, I almost never write about my relationship. It’s not a secret. It’s not even a conscious attempt at privacy. The truth is that much of what I’d have to report falls in the way of humdrum domesticity. A Tinder date with an apartment full of creepy mannequins makes for livelier content than one’s ongoing frustration about their partner dumping leftover rice in the sink when you do not have a garbage disposal.
But! It seems high time I open this box. For one thing, this week marks the five-year anniversary of our first date. (The CliffsNotes version: Teddy and I met on Hinge, where I was intrigued that he listed past Halloween costumes as Teddy Ruxpin and a person-sized Franzia Boxed Wine, “crisp white,” that actually dispensed wine. The rest is history.)
He is also a big part of the reason this newsletter makes its way to you each week. I have no editors or employees—it’s just me, in a room, typing. But every Sunday, at some point between 4p.m. and midnight, I’ll come busting in with a request for proofreading and general feedback. The conversation goes something like this:
“Is it relevant?”
“Yes.”
“Is it boring?”
“No.”
“Did your eyes glaze over at any point? Did you find yourself skipping ahead?”
“No.”
“Is it relatable?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“And how are we feeling about the title?”
If he likes the title, it means I must change it. (Experience has proven that the ones he finds particularly amusing seem too weird to everyone else.)
Eventually I send it out, and he is always the first to like it.
In honor of my proofreader, here is a collaborative issue, including things I’ve observed in my time as a human in relationships, mixed in with some favorite wisdom from others. To be clear, this does not mean I am particularly adept at any of this.
1. Love is something you get to define (and redefine).
A lot of what we’ve been fed about love is utter bullsh*t. I’m not hating on it—romance is great! I appreciate an Emily Henry novel as much as the next person. I’m just saying that what we call “love” is often something else, repackaged. Passion, romance, whatever they’re selling on The Bachelor. That is ratings, not love.
We often talk about love as an event, a state, an affliction, a feeling. But it’s also an action, a decision, a state of mind. Love can look like someone always ensuring you don’t run out of toilet paper and garbage bags—not particularly exciting, but romantic in its own way. To employ the bell hooks quote I reference more than any other, “Love is used as a noun, but we’d be better off if we all used it as a verb.”
2. Your relationship status—like many kinds of status—is not a measure of your worth.
Society has a way of making us feel like everyone else is having a better time than we are. This is patently untrue. Dating does not equal fun, marriage does not equal bliss, living alone and with others both come with their own share of pros and cons. Luck and timing and circumstance all play a role.
The idea that “successful” means “forever” is another belief that does not reflect many people’s realities. Plenty of successful relationships yield much beauty—memories, lessons, children, growth—and come to their apt conclusion. Love, and success, come in many forms.
3. A perfect partner does not exist.
This sounds negative but is actually liberating. Don’t feel fulfilled at all times? Haven’t managed to find a mind reader who anticipates your every desire? Cool. You haven’t done anything wrong. No one else has this, either. No one will check every box, meet every need, fulfill every wish. (P.S. That whole “none of us is perfect” thing includes you, too.) Put another, more eloquent, way:
“No person or thing will ever be enough to sustain the full breadth of our human potential. Nature cannot afford to lose any of her stewards, so she has calibrated the heart so it is never permanently fulfilled. But she does grant moments of satisfaction with things and with people, and they can sustain us.” —David Richo
4. Dynamics are unique—to the connection, the situation, the moment.
We don’t get to witness other peoples’ relationships unfold in real time. We know that the movies are a fantasy. Social media is a lying liar. Even reality TV is widely understood to be staged. But it can be easy to fall into the trap of believing that if our relationships don’t look like what we see modeled in the media, they are somehow less-than. Everyone has different values, desires, comfort levels, expectations. What matters is choosing what feels right for you.
It may seem like everyone else is overjoyed. Or like the whole world gets engaged on a neat, swift timeline. Or that someone else’s partner is infinitely available, cleaning the house and doing yard work and caring for children and gamely participating in choreographed TikTok videos. But we don’t know their reality. (And moreover, it’s not our business.)
5. Nothing is static.
Relationships require regular maintenance and care, like cars or computers or any other complicated thing. Every relationship has its own dynamic, and as other factors change, it can, too.
One friend and her partner have a practice called “family meeting,” a weekly check-in that goes on the calendar like any other mandatory event. The agenda includes any upcoming tasks, shared plans, or household items to discuss. They also bring emotional needs to the table—each partner shares one thing the other did for them that week that provided support, along with one thing they anticipate needing in the week ahead.
Says another friend who is a relationship coach, “After 18 years together, I’ve found the ‘secret’ of not getting divorced is to stay together. Work out the shit that comes up, as it comes up. (With the exception of abuse, of course.) The process of working things out entails self-awareness, other awareness, and remembering you love the f*cker. They’re not pissing you off on purpose. (And if they are, and they’re not willing to look into the unconscious, projecting reasons why, then you may want to rethink things.)”
6. Remember you’re dealing with a human being.
One thing I appreciate about my current relationship is that we’ve never been mean to each other. I’ve had other experiences where one or both parties acted more like a prosecutor than a partner, and (hurtful) things were said in the heat of the moment that could not be taken back. Disagreements are inevitable, but it never hurts to be kind.
Everyone comes to the table with their own blend of experiences, beliefs, attachment styles, and assorted baggage. “At first, you’re going to view someone else’s words and actions through your own lens,” says one friend. “But I’ve learned that it helps to stop and consider where they’re coming from—to try to put their lens on, so to speak. It can be disarming, in a good way.”
7. People may change, but not necessarily in the way you wish nor on your timeline.
However, we do have the power to change ourselves.
8. You are, and will always be, you.
A friend who is coming up on twenty years of marriage is often asked what their secret to happiness is. She always replies that it has as much to do with their separateness as it does with their togetherness. They each have their own passions, hobbies, and interests—which they encourage in one another. It gives them something to talk about. It gives them a sense of independence and a source of esteem. It offers a respite when they just want to get out for a while.
No matter what happens in our relationships with others, we’ll always have our relationships with ourselves. This knowledge can be a source of strength and comfort. I am reminded of this favorite passage from Rainer Maria Rilke (who I also quoted last week, because apparently I am on a Rilke kick):
“I hold this to be the highest task of a bond between two people: that each should stand guard over the solitude of the other… A togetherness between two people is an impossibility, and where it seems, nevertheless, to exist, it is a narrowing, a reciprocal agreement which robs either one party or both of his fullest freedom and development. But, once the realization is accepted that even between the closest human beings infinite distances continue to exist, a wonderful living side by side can grow up, if they succeed in loving the distance between them which makes it possible for each to see the other whole and against a wide sky!”
9. Say the thing.
Voicing what you want, need, feel, or think is a lot easier (and more effective) than waiting for someone else to anticipate it. (Sounds easy enough, but is not so simple in practice.)
10. There are no experts.
Well, there is Esther Perel. And I’ve known plenty of people who’ve been to different types of counseling at all stages of relationships and found it immensely helpful. But no one is going to have all the answers, particularly when it comes to your life. Not the ones who’ve been together for decades, nor the ones with many relationships behind them. Books and podcasts and the advice du jour will come and go. But we all have wisdom unique to our situation(s).
To that end, feel free to disregard everything I’ve just written. Feel free to ignore your peers, your social media accounts, your Aunt Sadie and her whispered counsel that bears no resemblance to your actual life. You are the only expert on you.
“When I see I am nothing, that is wisdom. When I see I am everything, that is love. My life is a movement between these two.” —Nisargadatta Maharaj
Card of the Week
Here is this week’s card for the collective, as well as some thoughts to carry into the days ahead. As most modern readers will tell you, the tarot is not about fortunetelling, nor is it about neat, definitive answers. The cards are simply one path to reflection, a way of better knowing ourselves and others through universal themes. If this reading resonates with you, great! And if not, no worries. Take whatever may be helpful and leave the rest.
Throughout my twenties, I had a telltale sign that I was stressed. I would check my horoscope. (Susan Miller and Rob Brezsny.) Then I would check it again. And again, expecting it might change. It never did.
We all have our versions of this.
When we ask a friend why someone hasn’t texted yet, even though deep down we know the deal. Or when we repeatedly google the same query, hoping for the answer we want. Or ask the tarot a question, pulling card after card after card, searching for an interpretation that satisfies us.
The Queen of Cups knows better. And frankly, so do we. But trusting your intuition doesn’t always come easily, even though it’s the most natural thing in the world.
As an archetype, the Queen is the coolest, at least in terms of disposition. Calm and powerful, soft and strong, she is emotional intuition personified—your wisest friend, the warmest guidance counselor, the yoga teacher whose presence puts you at ease, an animal who knows you need comforting even before you do.
When the Queen of Cups looks at you, she really sees you. Not merely the visible shape of you, but your essence. She understands your innate gifts, your hidden talents, your best intentions. The parts you sometimes struggle to see for yourself.
Our society doesn’t laud all talents equally. Quiet fortitude, active imaginations, artistic temperaments, and empathic feeling do not often appear on job requirements or lists of qualities to cultivate. But that makes them no less valuable, no less worthy of acknowledgment. This card is a nod to all you are doing to amplify the goodness in this world and spread it to the lives of others.
For today, the Queen has just one question: What one piece of feedback are you longing to hear?
Maybe it’s an affirmation of your worth. Or advice for how to set a boundary. Or the acknowledgment that you’re doing the best you can. Or an encouragement to stay the course.
Maybe it’s simply a reminder to unclench your jaw, relax your shoulders away from your ears, and take a deep breath.
The Queen asks us to close our eyes and listen for the response, some whispered guidance from the stillest part of ourselves. What permission do you wish to be granted? What praise are you longing to hear?
When the answer arrives (and she promises it will), know that the voice you’ve been waiting for—it’s been yours all along.
Thank you for including the single people in a piece about love. It makes me feel seen ❤️
I really like the idea of "standing guard over the solitude of the other" as part of love, quoted in 8.....