We Need Space

“I just worry about you because you tend to take on all the interests of whoever you’re dating.”

This was a concern that my best friend brought up in conversation a few weeks ago. 

My reaction? “Yep… fair enough.”

Back when I was with my first boyfriend, I became an avid cycling enthusiast—crushing goals on Strava and getting all-new gear. Then, when I was with my most recent partner, I became a wannabe salsa queen—dancing up to four times a week. 

Although my best friend’s comment wasn’t a new realization, it gave me the nudge to reflect on my recurring need to merge with my other half.

The best explanation I can come up with is that it’s a desperate attempt at closeness. Whenever things started to get rocky in the past, my response was to squeeze myself into every crevice between my partner and I that I could find.

In my last relationship, this was at its worst. It’s embarrassing to admit, but by the end of our partnership I was on my boyfriend’s payroll, was (too) close to all his family and friends, and had learned to salsa dance, speak Spanish, and even cook some Latin American food. I left virtually no aspect of his life to him and him alone. 

The flawed logic I followed was that if I was indispensable—a true necessity—then we would be inseparable.    

But humans need space to maintain relationships. Not only do we feel suffocated when we’re too close, but a lack of romantic desire also creeps in. Psychotherapist Esther Perel puts it best in her incredible book, Mating in Captivity:

“When intimacy collapses into fusion, it is not a lack of closeness but too much closeness that impedes desire.” 

Oh well—you live and you learn. 

The second important discovery I have made these last few months is around who I am—solo. 

It sounds funny, but I have been in relationships for most of my adult life—to the point where I didn’t even really know what I would fill my time with when I was on my own. 

These last few months have been an experiment in just that. What do I love to do for myself? What do I prioritize when there’s no one else to impress? What did I convince myself I liked that I actually don’t? 

I now have my answers. And though it’s natural that our interests and passions evolve over time, I’m making a mental note to check back in with this list the next time I’m in love. 

Obviously, there’s a balance between partaking in your partner’s interests and leaving them to do their thing. But having areas of overlap and ones that are individual, I have realized, is incredibly important. 

Now comes the hard part—making sure these reflections and realizations actually translate into action. 

I’m excited (and nervous) to see how this goes in my next relationship.