I recently read an Odyssey-esque post passed along by a friend that was wuthering on about what it is to fall in love. While it may not have been in the way I’m sure the author intended, the piece did get me thinking- have romance flicks and teen dramas really gotten us so wound up that we idealize unhealthy relationships? I think part of the reason this article resonated so negatively with me is that I have been on the receiving end of that mentality- of the I’m sorry but you know that I do love you. It is so, so easy to go along with it and make excuses for someone that you want to see the best in.
I realize that I seem to have made a habit of falling back on writing about relationships of the past, and rarely delve into my current partnership. That is partly out of a desire for privacy, to keep what we have for the two of us to enjoy exclusively. It is also because, as silly as it seems, I don’t want to jinx it. However the safety and warmth that I feel in this relationship has changed how I view a lot of things, but (obviously) relationships in particular. You’d never realize that you’ve been drinking terrible coffee your entire life unless you finally had that one amazing cup to compare it to. (Hear that babe? You’re my amazing cup of coffee, feel free to mock me for writing that later).
For awhile now I’ve been absentmindedly wondering why you never see movies about a secure, happy couple who support and push one another to become their best selves. It seems as if we live in a world where making amends is romanticized over never actually doing or saying things that need to be amended for in the first place. We seek out this kind of electric excitement in relationships- to the extent of their detriment. Whether it is to fill the holes left by boredom and insecurities or a lull in the relationship, people often go looking for trouble and calling it love- and forgetting that there is a difference between honest mistakes and actions made out of selfishness with a complete lack of regard for the other person.
I think it might start with the stereotype of falling in love as this big, terrifying, uncontrollable thing. A momentous event or some kind of shift in being. I used to believe that was what I should want, and I saw it everywhere from the Nicholas Sparks blockbusters to angsty social media posts about meeting “the one.” But you live and you learn, and the thing is, I don’t think falling in love should feel like having the breath knocked out of you. If anything, it is unhealthy to allow someone else a say in your every emotion.
It’s what you’re told you should seek out by almost every romance out there- a passionate, consuming love. Well I’ve had the screaming fights and slamming doors and kissing in the rain, but what the Taylor Swift song doesn’t tell you is that it is unsustainable. Tumultuousness is all well and good until it becomes your own life. It’s rich for me, with all of my 22 years, to sit here and write about what I think love should be; but isn’t the whole point of writing to hold as authentically to your truth as you can bare to?
I like to think that I have some insight, from a healthier, happier relationship than I could ever have imagined myself in, to be able to discuss the pitfalls of unhealthy relationships and how easy it is to be manipulated by a selfish partner or your own naive ideas. From where I sit, cappuccino balanced precariously on the corner of my laptop, I believe it should be a partnership. If you can’t trust and talk to one another, or function as a team and call each other out on your shit then really what’s the point? It’s easy to keep secrets and put off your problems with an “oh, love isn’t all roses and sunshine, sometimes love hurts”- but the thing is I don’t think it should. It should be fucking enjoyable. Yes, any relationship is going to require work, from your boyfriend to your best friend. It still should never leave you feeling powerless and spiraling out of control. It should feel like coming home.
Love isn’t apologizing after the fact- it’s biting your tongue in an argument and taking yourself off to cool down because you know that your relationship is worth more than having the last word. Love is choosing that person constantly, knowing that what you have is infinitely more valuable than a few moments with a hot stranger or an old fling- and trusting your partner to do the same. Love is not placing blind faith in someone, it is growing together into a formidable team. Sometimes it can be hard, but it should never be painful.
I suppose if I could go back and tell my 17 year old self something it might be that. If someone loves you, they don’t continuously hurt you. They don’t cheat- in fact they would never make you worry that it was even a possibility. A good relationship should make you feel safe and valued, not frightened and insecure.
If you build a relationship on infatuation and that sexy shine of something new it will fade, and it is so easy to turn to drama for any kind of spark to gloss it over. But when the foundation is solid, something that can weather the bickering and the dry spells and the for-the-love-of-god-how-hard-is-it-to-remember-to-flush-a-toilet, that’s when it’s real. That’s when it lasts. When the foundation is cracked there’s really only so much you can do. You can fill in the holes and try to forget them, but they’ll always be there. As millennials it is all too easy to blame hook-up apps, our parents, our friends’ parents and growing up amidst divorce; but at the end of the day we are the only ones who can take responsibility for our own emotional damage and deal with the fallout. And how we do speaks volumes about who we are.
I love a good underdog story as much as the next girl, where the protagonist conquers odds and a couple manages to overcome their history to live happily ever after- but things so rarely turn out in real life like they do in the movies. There isn’t nearly enough glamorization of healthy, stable relationships where the partners genuinely value and love one another. No drama, no gimmicks, just respect, honesty, and an indisputable connection.